RANCHING 
FOR  SILVIA 


HAROLD  b,';DLOSS 


' 


jKIYi  LY,  LOS  AKGELES 


RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 


BY  THE  SAME  A  UTHOR 

ALTON  OF  SOMASCO 
LORIMER  OF  THE  NORTHWEST 
THURSTON  OF  ORCHARD  VALLEY 
WINSTON  OF  THE  PRAIRIE 
THE  GOLD  TRAIL 
SYDNEY  CARTERET 
A  PRAIRIE  COURTSHIP 
VANE  OF  THE  TIMBERLANDS 
THE  LONG  PORTAGE 
THE  DUST  OF  CONFLICT 
THE  GREATER  POWER 
MASTERS  OF  THE  WHEATLANDS 
DELILAH  OF  THE  SNOWS 
BY  RIGHT  OF  PURCHASE 
THE  CATTLE  BARON'S  DAUGHTER 
THRICE  ARMED 
FOR  JACINTA 


Ranching  For  Sylvia 


By  Harold  Bindloss 


Author  of 

' '  Vane  of  the  Timber  lands, "    "  Alton  of  Somasco, ' ' 

1 '  Thurston  of  Orchard  Valley,"   "  Masters  of 

the  Wheatlands,"  Etc. 


A.    L.    BURT   COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED,   INCLUDING  THAT  OF  TRANSLATION 
INTO  FOREIGN    LANGUAGES,    INCLUDING   THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


COPYRIGHT,  1912,  BY  FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 
PUBLISHED  IN  ENGLAND  UNDER  THE  TITLE,  "THB  TRUSTEE" 


January,  1913 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    A  STRONG  APPEAL i 

II    His  FRIENDS'  OPINION 12 

III  A  MATTER  OF  DUTY 23 

IV  GEORGE  MAKES  FRIENDS 36 

V    THE  PRAIRIE 46 

VI    GEORGE  GETS  TO  WORK 58 

VII    A  CATTLE  DRIVE 69 

VIII    CONSTABLE  FLETT'S  SUSPICIONS 80 

IX    GEORGE  TURNS  REFORMER go 

X    THE   LIQUOR-RUNNERS 100 

XI    DIPLOMACY in 

XII    GEORGE  FACES  DISASTER 126 

XIII  SYLVIA  SEEKS  AMUSEMENT 139 

XIV  BLAND  GETS  ENTANGLED 151 

XV    HERBERT  MAKES  A  CLAIM 164 

XVI    A  FORCED  RETIREMENT 175 

XVII    HERBERT  Is  PATIENT 185 

XVIII    BLAND  MAKES  A  SACRIFICE 195 

XIX    AN  OPPOSITION  MOVE 206 

XX    A  BLIZZARD 219 

XXI    GRANT  COMES  TO  THE  RESCUE 230 

XXII    THE  SPREAD  OF  DISORDER 242 

XXIII  A  HARMLESS  CONSPIRACY 255 

XXIV  GEORGE  FEELS  GRATEFUL 266 

XXV     A    COUNTERSTROKE 277 

XXVI  THE  QJMAX    ,                                                       .  288 


2126113 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXVII    A  SIGN  FROM  FLETT 298 

XXVIII    THE  LEADING  WITNESS 311 

XXIX    FLORA'S  ENLIGHTENMENT 323 

XXX    THE   ESCAPE 336 

XXXI    THE   REACTION 350 

XXXII    A   REVELATION 363 

XXXIII  GEORGE  MAKES  UP  His  MIND  .........  375 


RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 


RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 


CHAPTER  I 

A   STRONG   APPEAL 

f  T  was  evening  of  early  summer.  George  Lansing 
•*•  sat  by  a  window  of  the  library  at  Brantholme. 
The  house  belonged  to  his  cousin ;  and  George,  having 
lately  reached  it  after  traveling  in  haste  from  Norway, 
awaited  the  coming  of  Mrs.  Sylvia  Marston  in  an 
eagerly  expectant  mood.  It  was  characteristic  of  him 
that  his  expression  conveyed  little  hint  of  his  feelings, 
for  George  was  a  quiet,  self-contained  man;  but  he 
had  not  been  so  troubled  by  confused  emotions  since 
Sylvia  married  Marston  three  years  earlier.  Marston 
had  taken  her  to  Canada;  but  now  he  was  dead,  and 
Sylvia,  returning  to  England,  had  summoned  George, 
who  had  been  appointed  executor  of  her  husband's 
will. 

Outside,  beyond  the  broad  sweep  of  lawn,  the  quiet 
English  countryside  lay  bathed  in  the  evening  light : 
a  river  gleaming  in  the  foreground,  woods  clothed  in 
freshest  verdure,  and  rugged  hills  running  back 
through  gradations  of  softening  color  into  the  dis- 
tance. Inside,  a  ray  of  sunlight  stretched  across  the 
polished  floor,  and  gleams  of  brightness  rested  on  the 
rows  of  books  and  somber  paneling.  Brantholme  was 

I 


2  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

old,  but  modern  art  had  added  comfort  and  toned  down 
its  austerity;  and  George,  fresh  from  the  northern 
snow  peaks,  was  conscious  of  its  restful  atmosphere. 

In  the  meanwhile,  he  was  listening  for  a  footstep. 
Sylvia,  he  had  been  told,  would  be  with  him  in  two  or 
three  minutes;  he  had  already  been  expecting  her  for 
a  quarter  of  an  hour.  This,  however,  did  not  sur- 
prise him:  Sylvia  was  rarely  punctual,  and  until  she 
married  Marston,  he  had  been  accustomed  to  await 
her  pleasure. 

She  came  at  length,  clad  in  a  thin  black  dress  that 
fitted  her  perfectly;  and  he  rose  and  stood  looking  at 
her  while  his  heart  beat  fast.  Sylvia  was  slight  of 
figure,  but  curiously  graceful,  and  her  normal  expres- 
sion was  one  of  innocent  candor.  The  somber  gar- 
ments emphasized  the  colorless  purity  of  her  com- 
plexion ;  her  hair  was  fair,  and  she  had  large,  pathetic 
blue  eyes.  Her  beauty  was  somehow  heightened  by  a 
hint  of  fragility :  in  her  widow's  dress  she  looked  very 
forlorn  and  helpless ;  and  the  man  yearned  to  comfort 
and  protect  her.  It  did  not  strike  him  that  she  had 
stood  for  some  moments  enduring  his  compassionate 
scrutiny  with  exemplary  patience. 

"  It's  so  nice  to  see  you,  George,"  she  said.  "  I 
knew  you  would  come." 

He  thrilled  at  the  assurance;  but  he  was  not  an 
effusive  person.  He  brought  a  chair  for  her. 

"  I  started  as  soon  as  I  got  your  note,"  he  answered 
simply.  "  I'm  glad  you're  back  again." 

He  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  mention  that  he 
had  with  difficulty  crossed  a  snow-barred  pass  in  order 
to  save  time,  and  had  left  a  companion,  who  resented 
his  desertion,  in  the  wilds ;  but  Sylvia  guessed  that  he 


A  STRONG  APPEAL  3 

had  spared  no  effort,  and  she  answered  him  with  a 
smile. 

"  Your  welcome's  worth  having,  because  it's  sin- 
cere." 

Those  who  understood  Sylvia  best  occasionally  said 
that  when  she  was  unusually  gracious  it  was  a  sign 
that  she  wanted  something;  but  George  would  have 
denied  this  with  indignation. 

"If  it  wouldn't  be  too  painful,  you  might  tell  me  a 
little  about  your  stay  in  Canada,"  he  said  by  and  by. 
"  You  never  wrote,  and  " —  he  hesitated  — "  I  heard 
only  once  from  Dick." 

Dick  was  her  dead  husband's  name,  and  she  sat 
silent  a  few  moments  musing,  and  glancing  unobtru- 
sively at  George.  He  had  not  changed  much  since  she 
last  saw  him,  on  her  wedding-day,  though  he  looked 
a  little  older,  and  rather  more  serious.  There  were 
faint  signs  of  weariness  which  she  did  not  remember 
in  his  sunburned  face.  On  the  whole,  however,  it 
was  a  reposeful  face,  with  something  in  it  that  sug- 
gested a  steadfast  disposition.  His  gray  eyes  met  one 
calmly  and  directly;  his  brown  hair  was  short  and 
stiff;  the  set  of  his  lips  and  the  contour  of  his  jaw 
were  firm.  George  had  entered  on  his  thirtieth  year. 
Though  he  was  strongly  made,  his  appearance  was  in 
no  way  striking,  and  it  was  seldom  that  his  conversa- 
tion was  characterized  by  brilliancy.  But  his  friends 
trusted  him. 

"  It's  difficult  to  speak  of,"  Sylvia  began.  "  When, 
soon  after  our  wedding,  Dick  lost  most  of  his  money, 
and  said  that  we  must  go  to  Canada,  I  felt  almost 
crushed;  but  I  thought  he  was  right."  She  paused 
and  glanced  at  George.  "  He  told  me  what  you 


4  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

wished  to  do,  and  I'm  glad  that,  generous  as  you  arc, 
he  wouldn't  hear  of  it." 

George  looked  embarrassed. 

"  I  felt  his  refusal  a  little,"  he  said.  "  I  could  have 
spared  the  money,  and  I  was  a  friend  of  his." 

He  had  proved  a  staunch  friend,  though  he  had 
been  hardly  tried.  For  several  years  he  had  been 
Sylvia's  devoted  servant,  and  an  admirer  of  the  more 
accomplished  Marston.  When  the  girl  chose  the  lat- 
ter it  was  a  cruel  blow  to  George,  for  he  had  never  re- 
garded his  comrade  as  a  possible  rival;  but  after  a 
few  weeks  of  passionate  bitterness,  he  had  quietly 
acquiesced.  He  had  endeavored  to  blame  neither; 
though  there  were  some  who  did  not  hold  Sylvia 
guiltless.  George  was,  as  she  well  knew,  her  faithful 
servant  still;  and  this  was  largely  why  she  meant  to 
tell  him  her  tragic  story. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  when  I  first  went  out  to  the 
prairie,  I  was  almost  appalled.  Everything  was  so 
crude  and  barbarous  —  but  you  know  the  country." 

George  merely  nodded.  He  had  spent  a  few  years 
in  a  wheat-growing  settlement,  inhabited  by  well-bred 
young  Englishmen.  The  colony,  however,  was  not 
conducted  on  economic  lines;  and  when  it  came  to 
grief,  George,  having  come  into  some  property  on  the 
death  of  a  relative,  returned  to  England. 

"  Still,"  continued  Sylvia,  "  I  tried  to  be  content, 
and  blamed  myself  when  I  found  it  difficult.  There 
was  always  so  much  to  do  —  cooking,  washing,  bak- 
ing—  one  could  seldom  get  any  help.  I  often  felt 
worn  out  and  longed  to  lie  down  and  sleep." 

"  I  can  understand  that,"  said  George,  with  grave 
sympathy.  "  It's  a  very  hard  country  for  a  woman." 


A  STRONG  APPEAL  5 

He  was  troubled  by  the  thought  of  what  she  must 
have  borne  for  it  was  difficult  to  imagine  Sylvia  en- 
gaged in  laborious  domestic  toil.  It  had  never  oc- 
curred to  him  that  her  delicate  appearance  was  de- 
ceptive. 

"  Dick,"  she  went  on,  "  was  out  at  work  all  day ; 
there  was  nobody  to  talk  to  —  our  nearest  neighbor 
lived  some  miles  off.  I  think  now  that  Dick  was 
hardly  strong  enough  for  his  task.  He  got  restless 
and  moody  after  he  lost  his  first  crop  by  frost.  Dur- 
ing that  long,  cruel  winter  we  were  both  unhappy:  I 
never  think  without  a  shudder  of  the  bitter  nights  we 
spent  sitting  beside  the  stove,  silent  and  anxious  about 
the  future.  But  we  persevered ;  the  next  harvest  was 
good,  and  we  were  brighter  when  winter  set  in.  I 
shall  always  be  glad  of  that  in  view  of  what  came 
after."  She  paused,  and  added  in  a  lower  voice: 
"  You  heard,  of  course?  " 

"Very  little;  I  was  away.     It  was  a  heavy  blow." 

"  I  couldn't  write  much,"  explained  Sylvia.  "  Even 
now,  I  can  hardly  talk  of  it  —  but  you  were  a  dear 
friend  of  Dick's.  We  had  to  burn  wood ;  the  nearest 
bluff  where  it  could  be  cut  was  several  miles  away ;  and 
Dick  didn't  keep  a  hired  man  through  the  winter.  It 
was  often  very  cold,  and  I  got  frightened  when  he 
drove  off  if  there  was  any  wind.  It  was  trying  to 
wait  in  the  quiet  house,  wondering  if  he  could  stand 
the  exposure.  Then  one  day  something  kept  him  so 
that  he  couldn't  start  for  the  bluff  until  noon ;  and  near 
dusk  the  wind  got  up  and  the  snow  began  to  fall.  It 
got  thicker,  and  I  could  not  sit  still.  I  went  out  now 
and  then  and  called,  and  was  driven  back,  almost 
frozen,  by  the  storm.  I  could  scarcely  see  the  lights 


6  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

a  few  yards  away ;  the  house  shook.  The  memory  of 
that  awful  night  will  haunt  me  all  my  life!  " 

She  broke  off  with  a  shiver,  and  George  looked  very 
compassionate. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  gently,  "  you  had  better  not  go 
on." 

"  Ah !  "  replied  Sylvia,  "  I  must  grapple  with  the 
horror  and  not  yield  to  it ;  with  the  future  to  be  faced, 
I  can't  be  a  coward.  At  last  I  heard  the  team  and 
opened  the  door.  The  snow  was  blinding,  but  I  could 
dimly  see  the  horses  standing  in  it.  I  called,  but  Dick 
didn't  answer,  and  I  ran  out  and  found  him  lying 
upon  the  load  of  logs.  He  was  very  still,  and  made 
no  sign,  but  I  reached  up  and  shook  him  —  I  couldn't 
believe  the  dreadful  thing.  I  think  I  screamed;  the 
team  started  suddenly,  and  Dick  fell  at  my  feet.  Then 
the  truth  was  clear  to  me." 

A  half-choked  sob  broke  from  her,  but  she  went  on. 

"  I  couldn't  move  him ;  I  must  have  gone  nearly 
mad,  for  I  tried  to  run  to  Peterson's,  three  miles  away. 
The  snow  blinded  me,  and  I  came  back  again;  and 
by  and  by  another  team  arrived.  Peterson  had  got 
lost  driving  home  from  the  settlement.  After  that, 
I  can't  remember  anything;  I'm  thankful  it  is  so  —  I 
couldn't  bear  it !  " 

Then  there  was  silence  for  a  few  moments  until 
George  rose  and  gently  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoul- 
der. 

"  My  sympathy's  not  worth  much,  Sylvia,  but  it's 
yours,"  he  said.  "  Can  I  help  in  any  practical  way  ?  " 

Growing  calmer,  she  glanced  up  at  him  with  tear- 
ful eyes. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  just  yet ;  but  it's  a  comfort  to 


A  STRONG  APPEAL  7 

have  your  sympathy.  Don't  speak  to  me  for  a  little 
while,  please," 

He  went  back  to  his  place  and  watched  her  with  a 
yearning  heart,  longing  for  the  power  to  soothe  her. 
She  looked  so  forlorn  and  desolate,  too  frail  to  bear 
her  load  of  sorrow. 

"  I  must  try  to  be  brave,"  she  smiled  up  at  him  at 
length.  "  And  you  are  my  trustee.  Please  bring 
those  papers  I  laid  down.  I  suppose  I  must  talk  to 
you  about  the  farm." 

It  did  not  strike  George  that  this  was  a  rather  sud- 
den change,  or  that  there  was  anything  incongruous 
in  Sylvia's  considering  her  material  interests  in  the 
midst  of  her  grief.  After  examining  the  documents, 
he  asked  her  a  few  questions,  to  which  she  gave  ex- 
plicit answers. 

"  Now  you  should  be  able  to  decide  what  must  be 
done,"  she  said  finally ;  "  and  I'm  anxious  about  it. 
I  suppose  that's  natural." 

"  You  have  plenty  of  friends,"  George  reminded  her 
consolingly. 

Sylvia  rose,  and  there  was  bitterness  in  her  ex- 
pression. 

"  Friends  ?  Oh,  yes ;  but  I've  come  back  to  them 
a  widow,  badly  provided  for  —  that's  why  I  spent 
some  months  in  Montreal  before  I  could  nerve  my- 
self to  face  them."  Then  her  voice  softened  as  she 
fixed  her  eyes  on  him.  "  It's  fortunate  there  are  one 
of  two  I  can  rely  on." 

Sylvia  left  him  with  two  clear  impressions:  her 
helplessness,  and  the  fact  that  she  trusted  him.  While 
he  sat  turning  over  the  papers,  his  cousin  and  co- 
trustee  came  in.  Herbert  Lansing  was  a  middle-aged 


8  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

business  man,  and  he  was  inclined  to  portliness.  His 
clean-shaven  and  rather  fleshy  face  usually  wore  a 
good-humored  expression  ;  his  manners  were  easy  and, 
as  a  rule,  genial. 

"  We  must  have  a  talk,"  he  began,  indicating  the 
documents  in  George's  hand.  "  I  suppose  you  have 
grasped  the  position,  even  if  Sylvia  hasn't  explained 
it.  She  shows  an  excellent  knowledge  of  details." 

There  was  a  hint  of  dry  ness  in  his  tone  that  escaped 
George's  notice. 

"  So  far  as  I  can  make  out,"  he  answered,  "  Dick 
owned  a  section  of  a  second-class  wheat-land,  with 
a  mortgage  on  the  last  quarter,  some  way  back  from 
a  railroad.  The  part  under  cultivation  gives  a  poor 
crop." 

"  What  would  you  value  the  property  at?  " 

George  made  a  rough  calculation. 

"  I  expected  something  of  the  kind,"  Herbert  told 
him.  "  It's  all  Sylvia  has  to  live  upon,  and  the  in- 
terest would  hardly  cover  her  dressmaker's  bills." 
He  looked  directly  at  his  cousin.  "  Of  course,  it's 
possible  that  she  will  marry  again." 

"  She  must  never  be  forced  to  contemplate  it  by 
any  dread  of  poverty,"  George  said  shortly. 

"  How  is  it  to  be  prevented  ?  " 

^  George  merely  looked  thoughtful  and  a  little  stern. 
Getting  no  answer,  Herbert  went  on : 

'  So  far  as  I  can  see,  we  have  only  two  courses 
to  choose  between.  The  first  is  to  sell  out  as  soon 
as  we  can  find  a  buyer,  with  unfortunate  results  if 
your  valuation's  right;  but  the  second  looks  more 
promising.  With  immigrants  pouring  into  the  coun- 
try, land's  bound  to  go  up,  and  we  ought  to  get  a 


A  STRONG  APPEAL  9 

largely  increased  price  by  holding  on  a  while.     To 
do  that,  I  understand,  the  land  should  be  worked." 
.     "  Yes.     It  could,   no  doubt,   be   improved ;   which 
would  materially  add  to  its  value." 

"I  see  one  difficulty:  the  cost  of  superintendence 
might  eat  up  most  of  the  profit.  Wages  are  high  on 
the  prairie,  are  they  not  ?  " 

George  assented,  and  Herbert  continued: 

"  Then  a  good  deal  would  depend  on  the  man  in 
charge.  Apart  from  the  question  of  his  honesty,  he 
would  have  to  take  a  thorough  interest  in  the  farm." 

"  He  would  have  to  think  of  nothing  else,  and  be 
willing  to  work  from  sunrise  until  dark,"  said  George. 
"  Successful  farming  means  determined  effort  in  west- 
ern Canada." 

"  Could  you  put  your  hands  upon  a  suitable  per- 
son?" 

"  I'm  very  doubtful.  You  don't  often  meet  with  a 
man  of  the  kind  we  need  in  search  of  an  engagement 
at  a  strictly  moderate  salary." 

"  Then  it  looks  as  if  we  must  sell  out  now  for 
enough  to  provide  Sylvia  with  a  pittance." 

"  That,"  George  said  firmly,  "  is  not  to  be  thought 
of!" 

There  was  a  short  silence  while  he  pondered,  for 
his  legacy  had  not  proved  an  unmixed  blessing.  At 
first  he  had  found  idleness  irksome,  but  by  degrees  he 
had  grown  accustomed  to  it.  Though  he  was  still 
troubled  now  and  then  by  an  idea  that  he  was  wasting 
his  time  and  making  a  poor  use  of  such  abilities  as 
he  possessed,  it  was  pleasant  to  feel  that,  within  cer- 
tain limits,  he  could  do  exactly  as  he  wished.  Life 
in  western  Canada  was  strenuous  and  somewhat  prim- 


io  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

itive;  he  was  conscious  of  a  strong  reluctance  to  re- 
sume it;  but  he  could  not  bear  to  have  Sylvia,  who 
had  luxurious  tastes,  left  almost  penniless.  There 
was  a  way  in  which  he  could  serve  her,  and  he  de- 
termined to  take  it.  George  was  steadfast  in  his  de- 
votion, and  did  not  shrink  from  a  sacrifice. 

"  It  strikes  me  there's  only  one  suitable  plan,"  he 
said.  "  I  know  something  about  western  farming. 
I  wouldn't  need  a  salary;  and  Sylvia  could  trust  me 
to  look  after  her  interests.  I'd  better  go  out  and  take 
charge  until  things  are  straightened  up,  or  we  come 
across  somebody  fit  for  the  post." 

Herbert  heard  him  with  satisfaction.  He  had  de- 
sired to  lead  George  up  to  this  decision,  and  he  sus- 
pected that  Sylvia  had  made  similar  efforts.  It  was 
not  difficult  to  instil  an  idea  into  his  cousin's  mind. 

"  Well,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  "  the  suggestion 
seems  a  good  one;  though  it's  rather  hard  on  you,  if 
you  really  mean  to  go." 

"  That's  decided,"  was  the  brief  answer. 

'  Then,  though  we  can  discuss  details  later,  you 
had  better  give  me  legal  authority  to  look  after  your 
affairs  while  you  are  away.  There  are  those  Kaffir 
shares,  for  instance;  it  might  be  well  to  part  with 
them  if  they  go  up  a  point  or  two." 

"  I've  wondered  why  you  recommended  me  to  buy 
them,"  George  said  bluntly. 

Herbert  avoided  a  direct  answer.  He  now  and  then 
advised  George,  who  knew  little  about  business,  in 
the  management  of  his  property,  but  his  advice  was 
not  always  disinterested  or  intended  only  for  his 
cousin's  benefit. 

"  Oh,"  he  replied,  "  the  cleverest  operators  now  and 


A  STRONG  APPEAL  n 

then  make  mistakes,  and  I  don't  claim  exceptional 
powers  of  precision.  It's  remarkably  difficult  to  fore- 
cast the  tendency  of  the  stock-market." 

George  nodded,  as  if  satisfied. 

"  I'll  arrange  things  before  I  sail,  and  I'd  better 
get  off  as  soon  as  possible.  Now,  suppose  we  go  down 
and  join  the  others." 


CHAPTER  II 
HIS  FRIENDS'  OPINION 

ON  the  afternoon  following  his  arrival,  George 
stood  thoughtfully  looking  about  on  his  cousin's 
lawn.  Creepers  flecked  the  mellow  brick  front  of 
the  old  house  with  sprays  of  tender  leaves;  purple 
clematis  hung  from  a  trellis;  and  lichens  tinted  the 
low  terrace  wall  with  subdued  coloring.  The  grass 
was  flanked  by  tall  beeches,  rising  in  masses  of  bright 
verdure  against  a  sky  of  clearest  blue;  and  beyond 
it,  across  the  sparkling  river,  smooth  meadows  ran 
back  to  the  foot  of  the  hills.  It  was,  in  spite  of  the 
bright  sunshine,  all  so  fresh  and  cool :  a  picture  that 
could  be  enjoyed  only  in  rural  England. 

George  was  sensible  of  the  appeal  it  made  to  him ; 
now,  when  he  must  shortly  change  such  scenes  for  the 
wide  levels  of  western  Canada,  which  are  covered  dur- 
ing most  of  the  year  with  harsh,  gray  grass,  alter- 
nately withered  by  frost  and  sun,  he  felt  their  charm. 
It  was  one  thing  to  run  across  to  Norway  on  a  fishing 
or  mountaineering  trip  and  come  back  when  he 
wished,  but  quite  another  to  settle  down  on  the  prairie 
where  he  must  remain  until  his  work  should  be  done. 
Moreover,  for  Mrs.  Lansing  had  many  friends,  the 
figures  scattered  about  the  lawn  —  young  men  and 
women  in  light  summer  attire  —  enhanced  the  attrac- 
tiveness of  the  surroundings.  They  were  nice  peo- 

12 


HIS  FRIENDS'  OPINION  13 

pie,  with  pleasant  English  ways;  and  George  con- 
trasted them  with  the  rather  grim,  aggressive  plains- 
men among  whom  he  would  presently  have  to  live : 
men  who  toiled  in  the  heat,  half  naked,  and  who  would 
sit  down  to  meals  with  him  in  dusty,  unwashed  clothes. 
He  was  not  a  sybarite,  but  he  preferred  the  society  of 
Mrs.  Lansing's  guests. 

After  a  while  she  beckoned  him,  and  they  leaned 
upon  the  terrace  wall  side  by  side.  She  was  a  good- 
natured,  simple  woman,  with  strongly  domestic  habits 
and  conventional  views. 

"  I'm  glad  Herbert  has  got  away  from  business  for 
a  few  days,"  she  began.  "  He  works  too  hard,  and 
it's  telling  on  him.  How  do  you  think  he  is  look- 
ing?" 

George  knew  she  was  addicted  to  displaying  a  need- 
less anxiety  about  her  husband's  health.  It  had 
struck  him  that  Herbert  was  getting  stouter;  but  he 
now  remembered  having  noticed  a  hint  of  care  in  his 
face. 

"  The  rest  will  do  him  good,"  he  said. 

Mrs.  Lansing's  conversation  was  often  discon- 
nected, and  she  now  changed  the  subject. 

"  Herbert  tells  me  you  are  going  to  Canada.  As 
you're  fond  of  the  open  air,  you  will  enjoy  it." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  George  assented  rather  dubiously. 

"Of  course,  it's  very  generous,  and  Sylvia's  for- 
tunate in  having  you  to  look  after  things  " —  Mrs. 
Lansing  paused  before  adding  — "  but  are  you  alto- 
gether wise  in  going,  George?  " 

Lansing  knew  that  his  hostess  loved  romance,  and 
sometimes  attempted  to  assist  in  one,  but  he  would 
have  preferred  another  topic. 


I4  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  don't  see  what  else  I  could  do,"  he  said. 

"  That's  hardly  an  answer.  You  will  forgive  me 
for  speaking  plainly,  but  what  I  meant  was  this  — 
your  devotion  to  Sylvia  is  not  a  secret." 

"  I  wish  it  were !  "  George  retorted.  "  But  I  don't 
intend  to  deny  it." 

His  companion  looked  at  him  reproachfully. 

"  Don't  get  restive ;  I've  your  best  interests  at  heart. 
You're  a  little  too  confiding  and  too  backward,  George. 
Sylvia  slipped  through  your  fingers  once  before." 

George's  brown  face  colored  deeply.  He  was 
angry,  but  Mrs.  Lansing  was  not  to  be  deterred. 

"  Take  a  hint  and  stay  at  home,"  she  went  on.  "  It 
might  pay  you  better." 

"  And  let  Sylvia's  property  be  sacrificed?  " 

"  Yes,  if  necessary."  She  looked  at  him  directly. 
"  You  have  means  enough." 

He  struggled  with  his  indignation.  Sylvia  hated 
poverty,  and  it  had  been  suggested  that  he  should  turn 
the  fact  to  his  advantage.  The  idea  that  she  might 
be  more  willing  to  marry  him  if  she  were  poor  was 
most  unpleasant. 

''Sylvia's  favor  is  not  to  be  bought,"  he  said. 

Mrs.  Lansing's  smile  was  half  impatient. 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you're  bent  on  going,  there's  nothing 
to  be  said.  Sylvia,  of  course,  will  stay  with  us." 

The  arrangement  was  a  natural  one,  as  Sylvia  was 
a  relative  of  hers;  but  George  failed  to  notice  that 
her  expression  grew  thoughtful  as  she  glanced  to- 
ward where  Sylvia  was  sitting  with  a  man  upon  whom 
the  soldier  stamp  was  plainly  set.  George  followed 
her  gaze  and  frowned,  but  he  said  nothing,  and  his 
companion  presently  moved  away.  Soon  afterward  he 


HIS  FRIENDS'  OPINION  15 

crossed  the  lawn  and  joined  a  girl  who  waited  for  him. 
Ethel  West  was  tall  and  strongly  made.  She  was 
characterized  by  a  keen  intelligence  and  bluntness  of 
speech.  Being  an  old  friend  of  George's,  she  occa- 
sionally assumed  the  privilege  of  one. 

"  I  hear  you  are  going  to  Canada.  What  is  taking 
you  there  again?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  going  to  look  after  some  farming  property, 
for  one  thing." 

Ethel  regarded  him  with  amusement. 

"Sylvia  Marston's,  I  suppose?" 

"  Yes,"  George  answered  rather  shortly. 
'  Then  what's  the  other  purpose  you  have  in  view  ?  " 

George  hesitated. 

"  I'm  not  sure  I  have  another  motive." 

"  So  I  imagined.  You're  rather  an  exceptional  man 
—  in  some  respects." 

"If  that's  true,  I  wasn't  aware  of  it,"  George  re- 
torted. 

Ethel  laughed. 

"  It's  hardly  worth  while  to  prove  my  statement ; 
we'll  talk  of  something  else.  Has  Herbert  told  you 
anything  about  his  business  since  you  came  back?  I 
suppose  you  have  noticed  signs  of  increased  pros- 
perity ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  not  observant,  and  Herbert  isn't 
communicative." 

"  Perhaps  he's  wise.  Still,  the  fact  that  he's  put- 
ting up  a  big  new  orchard-house  has  some  signifi- 
cance. I  understand  from  Stephen  that  he's  been 
speculating  largely  in  rubber  shares.  It's  a  risky 
game." 

"  I  suppose  it  is,"  George  agreed.     "  But  it's  most 


16  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

unlikely  that  Herbert  will  come  to  grief.  He  has  a 
very  long  head;  I  believe  he  could,  for  example,  buy 
and  sell  me." 

"  That  wouldn't  be  very  difficult.  I  suspect  Her- 
bert isn't  the  only  one  of  your  acquaintances  who  is 
capable  of  doing  as  much." 

Her  eyes  followed  Sylvia,  who  was  then  walking 
across  the  grass.  Sylvia's  movements  were  always 
graceful,  and  she  had  now  a  subdued,  pensive  air 
that  rendered  her  appearance  slightly  pathetic.  Ethel's 
face,  however,  grew  quietly  scornful.  She  knew  what 
Sylvia's  forlorn  and  helpless  look  was  worth. 

"  I'm  not  afraid  that  anybody  will  try,"  George  re- 
plied. 

"Your  confidence  is  admirable,"  laughed  Ethel; 
"  but  I  mustn't  appear  too  cynical,  and  I've  a  favor  to 
ask.  Will  you  take  Edgar  out  with  you  ?  " 

George  felt  a  little  surprised.  Edgar  was  her 
brother,  a  lad  of  somewhat  erratic  habits  and  ideas, 
who  had  been  at  Oxford  when  George  last  heard  of 
him. 

;'  Yes,  if  he  wants  to  go,  and  Stephen  approves," 
he  said ;  for  Stephen,  the  lawyer,  was  an  elder  brother, 
and  the  Wests  had  lost  their  parents. 

"  He  will  be  relieved  to  get  him  off  his  hands  for  a 
while;  but  Edgar  will  be  over  to  see  you  during  the 
afternoon.  He's  spending  a  week  or  two  with  the 
Charltons." 

"  I  remember  that  young  Charlton  and  he  were 
close  acquaintances." 

'  That  was  the  excuse  for  the  visit ;  but  you  had 
better  understand  that  there  was  a  certain  amount  of 
friction  when  Edgar  came  home  after  some  trouble 


HIS  FRIENDS'  OPINION  17 

with  the  authorities.  In  his  opinion,  Stephen  is  too 
fond  of  making  mountains  out  of  molehills;  but  I 
must  own  that  Edgar's  molehills  have  a  way  of  in- 
creasing in  size,  and  the  last  one  caused  us  a  good 
deal  of  uneasiness.  Anyway,  we  have  decided  that 
a  year's  hard  work  in  Canada  might  help  to  steady 
him,  even  if  he  doesn't  follow  up  farming.  The  main 
point  is  that  he  would  be  safe  with  you." 

"  I'll  have  a  talk  with  him,"  George  promised ;  and 
after  a  word  of  thanks  Ethel  turned  away. 

A  little  later  she  joined  Mrs.  Lansing,  who  was  sit- 
ting alone  in  the  shadow  of  a  beech. 

"  I'm  afraid  I've  added  to  George's  responsibilities 
—  he  has  agreed  to  take  Edgar  out,"  she  said.  "  He 
has  some  reason  for  wishing  to  be  delivered  from  his 
friends,  though  I  don't  suppose  he  does  so." 

"  I've  felt  the  same  thing.  Of  course,  I'm  not  re- 
ferring to  Edgar  —  his  last  scrape  was  only  a  trifling 
matter." 

"  So  he  contends,"  laughed  Ethel.  "  Stephen 
doesn't  agree  with  him." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Lansing,  "  I've  often  thought 
it's  a  pity  George  didn't  marry  somebody  nice  and 
sensible." 

"  Would  you  apply  that  description  to  Sylvia?  " 

"  Sylvia  stands  apart,"  Mrs.  Lansing  declared. 
"  She  can  do  what  nobody  else  would  venture  on,  and 
yet  you  feel  you  must  excuse  her." 

"  Have  you  any  particular  exploit  of  hers  in  your 
mind?" 

"  I  was  thinking  of  when  she  accepted  Dick  Mar- 
ston.  I  believe  even  Dick  was  astonished." 

"  Sylvia  knows  how  to  make  herself  irresistible," 


18  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

said  Ethel,  strolling  away  a  few  moments  later,  some- 
what troubled  in  mind. 

She  had  cherished  a  half-tender  regard  for  George, 
which,  had  it  been  reciprocated,  might  have  changed 
to  a  deeper  feeling.  The  man  was  steadfast,  chival- 
rous, honest,  and  she  saw  in  him  latent  capabilities 
which  few  others  suspected.  Still,  his  devotion  to 
Sylvia  had  never  been  concealed,  and  Ethel  had  ac- 
quiesced in  the  situation,  though  she  retained  a  strong 
interest  in  him.  She  believed  that  in  going  to  Canada 
he  was  doing  an  injudicious  thing;  but  as  his  confi- 
dence was  hard  to  shake,  he  could  not  be  warned  — 
her  conversation  with  him  had  made  that  plainer. 
She  would  not  regret  it  if  Sylvia  forgot  him  while  he 
was  absent;  but  there  wrere  other  ways  in  which  he 
might  suffer,  and  she  wished  he  had  not  chosen  to 
place  the  management  of  his  affairs  in  Herbert's 
hands. 

In  the  meanwhile,  her  brother  had  arrived,  and  he 
and  George  were  sitting  together  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  lawn.  Edgar  was  a  handsome,  dark-haired 
lad,  with  a  mischievous  expression,  and  he  sometimes 
owned  that  his  capacity  for  seeing  the  humorous  side 
of  things  was  a  gift  that  threatened  to  be  his  ruin. 
Nevertheless,  there  was  a  vein  of  sound  common  sense 
in  him,  and  he  had  a  strong  admiration  for  George 
Lansing. 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  go  with  me  ?  "  the  latter 
asked,  pretending  to  be  a  bit  stern,  but  liking  the 
youngster  all  the  while. 

'  That,"  Edgar  laughed,  "  is  a  rather  euphemistic 
way  of  putting  it.  My  wishes  have  not  been  con- 
sulted. I  must  give  my  relatives  the  credit  for  the 


HIS  FRIENDS'  OPINION  19 

idea.  Still,  one  must  admit  they  had  some  provoca- 
tion." 

"  It  strikes  me  they  have  had  a  good  deal  of  pa- 
tience," George  said  dryly.  "  I  suppose  it's  ex- 
hausted." 

"  No,"  replied  Edgar,  with  a  confidential  air ;  "  it's 
mine  that  has  given  out.  I'd  better  explain  that  being 
stuffed  with  what  somebody  calls  formulas  gets  monot- 
onous, and  it's  a  diet  they're  rather  fond  of  at  Ox- 
ford. Down  here  in  the  country  they're  almost  as 
bad;  and  pretending  to  admire  things  I  don't  believe 
in  positively  hurts.  That's  why  I  sometimes  protest, 
with,  as  a  rule,  disastrous  results." 

"  Disastrous  to  the  objectionable  ideas  or  cus- 
toms ?  " 

"  No,"  laughed  the  lad ;  "  to  me.  Have  you  ever 
noticed  how  vindictive  narrow-minded  people  get 
when  you  destroy  their  pet  delusions  ?  " 

"  I  can't  remember  ever  having  done  so." 

"  Then  you'll  come  to  it.  If  you're  honest  it's  un- 
avoidable ;  only  some  people  claim  that  they  make  the 
attack  from  duty,  while  I  find  a  positive  pleasure  in  the 
thing." 

"  There's  one  consolation  —  you  won't  have  much 
time  for  such  proceedings  if  you  come  with  me. 
You'll  have  to  work  in  Canada." 

"  I  anticipated  something  of  the  sort,"  the  lad  re- 
joined. Then  he  grew  serious.  "  Have  you  decided 
who's  to  look  after  your  affairs  while  you  are  away? 
If  you  haven't,  you  might  do  worse  than  leave  them 
to  Stephen.  He's  steady  and  safe  as  a  rock,  and, 
after  all,  the  three  per  cent,  you're  sure  of  is  better 
than  a  handsome  dividend  you  may  never  get." 


20  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  can't  give  Herbert  the  go-by.  He's  the  obvious 
person  to  do  whatever  may  be  needful." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  Edgar  assented,  with  some  reluc- 
tance. "  No  doubt  he'd  feel  hurt  if  you  asked  any- 
body else;  but  I  wish  you  could  have  got  Stephen." 

He  changed  the  subject;  and  when  some  of  the 
others  came  up  and  joined  them,  he  resumed  his  hu- 
morous manner. 

"  I'm  not  asking  for  sympathy,"  he  said,  in  answer 
to  one  remark.  "  I'm  going  out  to  extend  the  bounds 
of  the  empire,  strengthen  the  ties  with  the  mother 
country,  and  that  sort  of  thing.  It's  one  of  the  privi- 
leges that  seem  to  be  attached  to  the  possession  of  a 
temperament  like  mine." 

"  How  will  you  set  about  the  work  ?  "  somebody 
asked. 

"  With  the  plow  and  the  land-packer,"  George 
broke  in.  "  He'll  have  the  satisfaction  of  driving 
them  twelve  hours  a  day.  It  happens  to  be  the  most 
effective  way  of  doing  the  things  he  mentions." 

Edgar's  laughter  followed  him  as  he  left  the  group. 

After  dinner  that  evening  Herbert  invited  George 
into  the  library. 

"  Parker  has  come  over  about  my  lease,  and  his 
visit  will  save  you  a  journey,"  he  explained.  "  We 
may  as  well  get  things  settled  now  while  he's  here." 

George  went  with  him  to  the  library,  where  the 
lawyer  sat  at  a  writing-table.  He  waited  in  silence 
while  Herbert  gave  the  lawyer  a  few  instructions. 
A  faint  draught  flowed  in  through  an  open  window, 
and  gently  stirred  the  litter  of  papers;  a  shaded  lamp 
stood  on  the  table,  and  its  light  revealed  the  faces  of 


HIS  FRIENDS'  OPINION  21 

the  two  men  near  it  with  sharp  distinctness,  though 
outside  the  circle  of  brightness  the  big  room  was  al- 
most dark. 

It  struck  George  that  his  cousin  looked  eager,  as  if 
he  were  impatient  to  get  the  work  finished ;  but  he  re- 
flected that  this  was  most  likely  because  Herbert 
wished  to  discuss  the  matter  of  the  lease.  Then  he 
remembered  with  a  little  irritation  what  Ethel  said 
during  the  afternoon.  It  was  not  very  lucid,  but  he  had 
an  idea  that  she  meant  to  warn  him;  and  Edgar  had 
gone  some  length  in  urging  that  he  should  leave  the 
care  of  his  property  to  another  man.  This  was  curi- 
ous, but  hardly  to  be  taken  into  consideration.  Her- 
bert was  capable  and  exact  in  his  dealings;  and  yet 
for  a  moment  or  two  George  was  troubled  by  a  faint 
doubt.  It  appeared  irrational,  and  he  drove  it  out  of 
his  mind  when  Herbert  spoke. 

"The  deed's  ready;  you  have  only  to  sign,"  he 
said,  indicating  a  paper.  Then  he  added,  with  a 
smile :  "  You  quite  realize  the  importance  of  what  you 
are  doing?  " 

The  lawyer  turned  to  George. 

"  This  document  gives  Mr.  Lansing  full  authority  to 
dispose  of  your  possessions  as  he  thinks  fit.  In  ac- 
cordance with  it,  his  signature  will  be  honored  as  if  it 
were  yours." 

Parker's  expression  was  severely  formal,  and  his 
tone  businesslike;  but  he  had  known  George  for  a 
long  while,  and  had  served  his  father.  Again,  for  a 
moment,  George  had  an  uneasy  feeling  that  he  was 
being  warned;  but  he  had  confidence  in  his  friends, 
and  his  cousin  was  eminently  reliable. 


22  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  know  that,"  he  answered.  "  I've  left  matters 
in  Herbert's  hands  on  other  occasions,  with  fortunate 
results.  Will  you  give  me  a  pen  ?  " 

The  lawyer  watched  him  sign  with  an  inscrutable 
face,  but  when  he  laid  down  the  pen,  Herbert  drew 
back  out  of  the  strong  light.  He  was  folding  the 
paper  with  a  sense  of  satisfaction  and  relief. 


CHAPTER  III 

A    MATTER    OF    DUTY 

ON  the  evening  before  George's  departure,  Sylvia 
stood  with  him  at  the  entrance  to  the  Brantholme 
drive.  He  leaned  upon  the  gate,  a  broad-shoul- 
dered, motionless  figure;  his  eyes  fixed  moodily  upon 
the  prospect,  because  he  was  afraid  to  let  them  dwell 
upon  his  companion.  In  front,  across  the  dim  white 
road,  a  cornfield  ran  down  to  the  river,  and  on  one 
side  of  it  a  wood  towered  in  a  shadowy  mass  against 
a  soft  green  streak  of  light.  Near  its  foot  the  water 
gleamed  palely  among  overhanging  alders,  and  in  the 
distance  the  hills  faded  into  the  grayness  of  the  east- 
ern sky.  Except  for  the  low  murmur  of  the  stream, 
it  was  very  still ;  and  the  air  was  heavy  with  the  smell 
of  dew-damped  soil. 

All  this  had  its  effect  on  George.  He  loved  the 
quiet  English  country;  and  now,  when  he  must  leave 
it,  it  strongly  called  to  him.  He  had  congenial 
friends,  and  occupations  in  which  he  took  pleasure  — 
sport,  experiments  in  farming,  and  stock-raising.  It 
would  be  hard  to  drop  them ;  but  that,  after  all,  was 
a  minor  trouble.  He  would  be  separated  from  Sylvia 
until  his  work  should  be  done. 

"  What  a  beautiful  nijjht !  "  she  said  at  length. 

Summoning  his  resolution,  he  turned  and  looked  at 
her.  She  stood  with  one  hand  resting  on  the  gate, 

23 


24  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

slender,  graceful,  and  wonderfully  attractive,  the 
black  dress  emphasizing  the  pure  whiteness  of  her 
face  and  hands.  Sylvia  was  an  artist  where  dress 
was  concerned,  and  she  had  made  the  most  of  her 
somber  garb.  As  he  looked  at  her  a  strong  tempta- 
tion shook  the  man.  He  might  still  discover  some 
excuse  for  remaining  to  watch  over  Sylvia,  and  seize 
each  opportunity  for  gaining  her  esteem.  Then  he 
remembered  that  this  would  entail  the  sacrifice  of  her 
property;  and  a  faint  distrust  of  her,  which  he  had 
hitherto  refused  to  admit,  seized  him.  Sylvia,  threat- 
ened by  poverty,  might  yield  without  affection  to  the 
opportunities  of  a  suitor  who  would  bid  high  enough 
for  her  hand;  and  he  would  not  have  such  a  course 
forced  upon  her,  even  if  he  were  the  one  to  profit. 

"  You're  very  quiet ;  you  must  feel  going  away," 
she  said. 

"  Yes,"  George  admitted ;  "  I  feel  it  a  good  deal." 

"  Ah !  I  don't  know  anybody  else  who  would  have 
gone  —  I  feel  selfish  and  shabby  in  letting  you." 

"  I  don't  think  you  could  stop  me." 

"  I  haven't  tried.  I  suppose  I'm  a  coward,  but  until 
you  promised  to  look  after  matters,  I  was  afraid  of 
the  future.  I  have  friends,  but  the  tinge  of  contempt 
which  would  creep  into  their  pity  would  be  hard  to 
bear.  It's  hateful  to  feel  that  you  are  being  put  up 
with.  Sometimes  I  thought  I'd  go  back  to  Canada." 

"  I've  wondered  how  you  stood  it  as  long  as  you 
did,"  George  said  incautiously. 

"Aren't  you  forgetting?  I  had  Dick  with  me 
then."  Sylvia  paused  and  shuddered.  "It  would  be 
so  different  now." 

George  felt  reproved  and  very  compassionate. 


A  MATTER  OF  DUTY  25 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I'm  afraid  I  forgot;  but  the  whole 
thing  seems  tanreal.  It's  almost  impossible  to  imagine 
your  living  on  a  farm  in  western  Canada." 

"  I  dare  say  it's  difficult.  I'll  confess  I'm  fond  of 
ease  and  comfort  and  refinement.  I  like  to  be  looked 
after  and  waited  on;  to  have  somebody  to  keep  un- 
pleasant things  away.  That's  dreadfully  weak,  isn't 
it?  And  because  I  haven't  more  courage,  I'm 
sending  you  back  to  the  prairie." 

"  I'm  quite  ready  to  go." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  of  that !  It's  comforting  to  remem- 
ber that  you're  so  resolute  and  matter-of-fact.  You 
wouldn't  let  troubles  daunt  you  —  perhaps  you  would 
scarcely  notice  them  when  you  had  made  up  your 
mind." 

The  man  smiled,  rather  wistfully.  He  could  feel 
things  keenly,  and  he  had  his  romance;  but  Sylvia  re- 
sumed : 

"  I  sometimes  wonder  if  you  ever  felt  really  badly 
hurt?" 

"  Once,"  he  said  quietly.  "  I  think  I  have  got  over 
it." 

"  Ah !  "  she  murmured.  "  I  was  afraid  you  would 
blame  me,  but  now  it  seems  that  Dick  knew  you  better 
than  I  did.  When  he  made  you  my  trustee,  he  said 
that  you  were  too  big  to  bear  him  malice." 

The  blood  crept  into  George's  face. 

"  After  the  first  shock  had  passed,  and  I  could  rea- 
son calmly,  I  don't  think  I  blamed  either  of  you.  You 
had  promised  me  nothing;  Dick  was  a  brilliant  man, 
with  a  charm  everybody  felt.  By  comparison,  I  was 
merely  a  plodder." 

Sylvia  mused  for  a  few  moments. 


26  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  George,"  she  said  presently,  "  I  sometimes  think 
you're  a  little  too  diffident.  You  plodders  who  go 
straight  on,  stopping  for  nothing,  generally  gain  your 
object  in  the  end." 

His  heart  beat  faster.  It  looked  as  if  she  meant 
this  for  a  hint. 

"  I  can't  thank  you  properly,"  she  continued ; 
"  though  I  know  that  all  you  undertake  will  be  thor- 
oughly carried  out.  I  wish  I  hadn't  been  forced  to 
let  you  go  so  far  away ;  there  is  nobody  else  I  can  rely 
on." 

He  could  not  tell  her  that  he  longed  for  the  right  to 
shelter  her  always  —  it  was  not  very  long  since  the 
Canadian  tragedy  —  but  silence  cost  him  an  effort. 
At  length  she  touched  his  arm. 

"  It's  getting  late,  and  the  others  will  wonder  where 
we  are,"  she  reminded  him. 

They  went  back  to  the  house;  and  when  Sylvia 
joined  Mrs.  Lansing,  George  felt  seriously  annoyed 
with  himself.  He  had  been  deeply  stirred,  but  he 
had  preserved  an  unmoved  appearance  when  he  might 
have  expressed  some  sympathy  of  tenderness  which 
could  not  have  been  resented.  Presently  Ethel  West 
crossed  the  room  to  where  he  was  rather  moodily 
standing. 

"  I  believe  our  car  is  waiting,  and,  as  Edgar  won't 
let  me  come  to  the  station  to-morrow,  I  must  say 
good-by  now,"  she  told  him.  "  Both  Stephen  and  I 
are  glad  he  is  on  your  hands." 

"  I  must  try  to  deserve  your  confidence,"  George 
said,  smiling.  "  It's  premature  yet."  . 

"  Never  mind  that.     We're  alike  in  some  respects : 


A  MATTER  OF  DUTY  27 

pretty  speeches  don't  appeal  to  us.  But  there's  one 
thing  I  must  tell  you  —  don't  delay  out  yondei,  come 
back  as  soon  as  you  can." 

She  left  him  thoughtful.  He  had  a  high  opinion  of 
Ethel's  intelligence,  but  he  would  entertain  no  doubts 
or  misgivings.  They  were  treasonable  to  Herbert 
and,  what  was  worse,  to  Sylvia. 

Going  to  bed  in  good  time,  he  had  only  a  few  words 
with  Sylvia  over  his  early  breakfast  in  the  morning. 
Then  he  was  driven  to  the  station,  where  Edgar 
joined  him;  and  the  greater  part  of  their  journey 
proved  uneventful. 

Twelve  days  after  leaving  Liverpool  they  were, 
however,  awakened  early  one  morning  by  feeling  the 
express-train  suddenly  slacken  speed.  The  big  cars 
shook  with  a  violent  jarring,  and  George  hurriedly 
swung  himself  down  from  his  upper  berth.  He  had 
some  difficulty  in  getting  into  his  jacket  and  putting 
on  his  boots,  but  he  pushed  through  the  startled  pas- 
sengers and  sprang  down  upon  the  track  before  the 
train  quite  stopped.  He  knew  that  accidents  were 
not  uncommon  in  the  wilds  of  northern  Ontario. 

Ragged  firs  rose,  dripping,  against  the  rosy  glow 
in  the  eastern  sky,  with  the  narrow  gap,  hewed  out 
for  the  line,  running  through  their  midst.  Some  had 
been  stripped  of  their  smaller  branches  by  fire,  and 
leaned,  dead  and  blackened,  athwart  each  other.  Be- 
neath them,  shallow  pools  gleamed  in  the  hollows  of 
the  rocks,  which  rose  in  rounded  masses  here  and 
there,  and  the  gravel  of  the  graded  track  was  seamed 
by  water  channels.  George  remembered  having 
heard  the  roar  of  heavy  rain  and  a  crash  of  thunder 


28  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

during  the  night,  but  it  was  now  wonderfully  still 
and  fresh,  and  the  resinous  fragrance  of  the  firs  filled 
the  chilly  air. 

Walking  forward,  clear  of  the  curious  passengers 
who  poured  from  the  cars,  he  saw  a  lake  running 
back  into  the  woods.  A  tall  water-tank  stood  on  the 
margin  with  a  shanty,  in  which  George  imagined  a 
telegraph  operator  was  stationed,  at  its  foot.  Ahead, 
the  great  locomotive  was  pouring  out  a  cloud  of  sooty 
smoke.  When  George  reached  it  he  waited  until  the 
engineer  had  finished  talking  to  a  man  on  the  line. 

"  What  are  we  stopping  for  ?  Has  anything  gone 
wrong?  "  he  asked. 

"  Freight  locomotive  jumped  the  track  at  a  wash- 
out some  miles  ahead,"  explained  the  engineer. 
"  Took  the  fireman  with  her ;  but  I  don't  know  much 
about  it  yet.  Guess  they'll  want  me  soon." 

George  got  the  man  to  promise  to  take  him,  and 
then  he  went  back  until  he  met  Edgar,  to  whom  he 
related  what  he  had  heard. 

"  I'm  not  astonished,"  remarked  the  lad,  indicating 
one  of  the  sleepers.  "  Look  at  that  —  the  rail's  only 
held  down  by  a  spike  or  two ;  we  fasten  them  in  solid 
chairs.  They're  rough  and  ready  in  this  country." 

It  was  the  characteristic  hypercritical  attitude  of 
the  newly-arrived  Englishman;  and  George,  knowing 
that  the  Canadians  strongly  resent  it,  noticed  a  look  of 
interest  in  the  eyes  of  a  girl  standing  near  them. 
She  was,  he  imagined,  about  twenty-four  years  of 
age,  and  was  dressed  in  some  thin  white  material, 
the  narrow  skirt  scarcely  reaching  to  the  tops  of  her 
remarkably  neat  shoes.  Her  arms  were  uncovered 
to  the  elbows ;  her  neck  was  bare,  but  this  displayed  a 


A  MATTER  OF  DUTY  29 

beautiful  skin;  and  the  face  beneath  the  turned-down 
brim  of  the  big  hat  was  attractive.  George  thought 
she  was  amused  at  Edgar's  comment. 

!<  Well,"  he  said,  "  while  we  put  down  a  few  miles 
of  metals  they'd  drive  the  track  across  leagues  of 
new  country  and  make  a  start  with  the  traffic.  They 
haven't  time  to  be  particular,  with  the  great  western 
wheat-land  waiting  for  development" 

The  girl  moved  away ;  and  when  word  went  around 
that  there  would  be  a  delay  of  several  hours,  George 
sat  down  beside  the  lake  and  watched  the  Colonist 
passengers  wash  their  children's  clothes.  It  was,  he 
thought,  rather  a  striking  scene  —  the  great  train 
standing  in  the  rugged  wilderness,  the  wide  stretch  of 
gleaming  water  running  back  among  the  firs,  and  the 
swarm  of  jaded  immigrants  splashing  bare-footed 
along  the  beach.  Their  harsh  voices  and  hoarse 
laughter  broke  discordantly  on  the  silence  of  the 
woods. 

After  a  while  an  elderly  man,  in  badly-fitting  clothes 
and  an  old  wide-brimmed  hat,  sauntered  up  with  the 
girl  George  had  noticed,  and  stopped  to  survey  the 
passengers. 

"  A  middling  sample ;  not  so  many  English  as 
usual,"  he  remarked.  "  If  they  keep  on  coming  in 
as  they're  doing,  we'll  get  harvest  hands  at  a  reason- 
able figure." 

"  All  he  thinks  about ! "  Edgar  commented,  in  a 
lowered  voice.  "  That's  the  uncivil  old  fellow  who 
smokes  the  vile  leaf  tobacco;  he  drove  me  out  of  the 
car  once  or  twice.  It's  hard  to  believe  he's  her  father ; 
but  in  some  ways  they're  alike." 

"  I  can't  help  feeling  sorry  for  them,"  the  girl  re- 


30  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

plied.  "  Look  at  those  worn-out  women,  almost  too 
limp  to  move.  It's  hot  and  shaky  enough  in  our  cars ; 
the  Colonist  ones  must  be  dreadful." 

"  Good  enough  for  the  folks  who're  in  them ;  they're 
not  fastidious,"  said  the  man. 

They  strolled  on,  and  George  felt  mildly  curious 
about  them.  The  girl  was  pretty  and  graceful,  with  a 
stamp  of  refinement  upon  her ;  the  man  was  essentially 
rugged  and  rather  grim.  Suddenly,  however,  a 
whistle  blast  rang  out,  and  George  hurried  toward 
the  engine.  It  was  beginning  to  move  when  he 
reached  it  but,  grasping  a  hand-rail,  he  clambered  up. 
The  cab  was  already  full  of  passengers,  but  he  had 
found  a  place  on  the  frame  above  the  wheels  when  he 
saw  the  girl  in  the  light  dress  running,  flushed  and 
eager,  along  the  line.  Leaning  down  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, he  held  out  his  hand  to  her. 

"  Get  hold,  if  you  want  to  come,"  he  called. 
"  There's  a  step  yonder." 

She  seized  his  hand  and  smiled  at  him  when  he  drew 
her  up  beside  him. 

"  Thanks,"  she  said.     "  I  was  nearly  too  late." 

"  Perhaps  we  had  better  make  for  the  pilot,  where 
there'll  be  more  room,"  George  suggested,  as  two  more 
passengers  scrambled  up. 

They  crept  forward,  holding  on  by  the  guard-rail, 
while  the  great  engine  began  to  rock  as  it  gathered 
speed.  The  girl,  however,  was  fearless,  and  at  length 
they  reached  the  front,  and  stood  beneath  the  big 
head-lamp  with  the  triangular  frame  of  the  pilot  run- 
ning down  to  the  rails  at  their  feet.  The  ledge  along 
the  top  of  it  was  narrow,  and  when  his  companion  sat 
down  George  felt  concerned  about  her  safety.  Her 


A  MATTER  OF  DUTY  31 

hat  had  blown  back,  setting  free  tresses  of  glossy 
hair;  her  light  skirt  fluttered  against  the  sooty  pilot. 

"  You'll  have  to  allow  me,"  he  said,  tucking  the 
thin  fabric  beneath  her  and  passing  an  arm  around  her 
waist. 

He  thought  she  bore  it  well,  for  her  manner  was 
free  from  prudish  alarm  or  coquettish  submission. 
With  sound  sense,  she  had  calmly  acquiesced  in  the 
situation;  but  George  found  the  latter  pleasant.  His 
companion  was  pretty,  the  swift  motion  had  brought 
a  fine  warmth  into  her  cheeks,  and  a  sparkle  into-  her 
eyes;  and  George  was  slightly  vexed  when  Edgar,  ap- 
pearing round  the  front  of  the  engine,  unnoticed  by 
the  girl,  surveyed  him  with  a  grin. 

"Is  there  room  for  me?"  he  asked.  "I  had  to 
leave  the  place  where  I  was,  because  my  fellow  pas- 
sengers didn't  seem  to  mind  if  they  pushed  me  off.  A 
stranger  doesn't  get  much  consideration  in  this  coun- 
try." 

The  girl  looked  up  at  him  consideringly  and  an- 
swered, through  the  roar  of  the  engine: 

'  You  may  sit  here,  if  you'll  stop  criticizing  us." 

"  It's  quite  fair,"  Edgar  protested,  as  he  took  his 
place  by  her  side.  "  I've  been  in  Canada  only  three 
days,  but  I've  several  times  heard  myself  alluded  to 
as  an  Englishman,  as  if  that  were  some  excuse  for 
me." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  haven't  been  provoking  people 
by  your  superior  air  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  know  I  possessed  one ;  but  I  don't  see 
why  I  should  be  very  humble  because  I'm  in  Canada." 

The  girl  laughed  good-humoredly,  and  turned  to 
George. 


32  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I'm  glad  I  came.     This  is  delightful,"  she  said. 

It  was,  George  admitted,  an  exhilarating  experi- 
ence. The  big  engine  was  now  running  at  top  speed, 
rocking  down  the  somewhat  roughly  laid  line.  Banks 
of  trees  and  stretches  of  gleaming  water  sped  past. 
The  rails  ahead  came  flying  back  to  them.  The  sun 
was  on  the  firs,  and  the  wind  that  lashed  George's  face 
was  filled  with  their  fragrance.  Once  or  twice  a  tress 
of  his  companion's  hair  blew  across  his  cheek,  but 
she  did  not  appear  to  notice  this.  He  thought  she 
was  conscious  of  little  beyond  the  thrill  of  speed. 

At  length  the  engine  stopped  where  the  line  crossed 
a  lake  on  a  high  embankment.  A  long  row  of  freight- 
cars  stood  near  a  break  in  the  track  into  which  the 
rails  ran  down,  and  a  faint  cloud  of  steam  rose  from 
the  gap. 

George  helped  the  girl  down,  anticipating  Edgar, 
who  seemed  anxious  to  offer  his  assistance,  and  they 
walked  forward  until  they  could  see  into  the  pit.  It 
was  nearly  forty  feet  in  depth,  for  the  embankment, 
softened  by  heavy  rain,  had  slipped  into  the  lake.  In 
the  bottom  a  huge  locomotive  lay  shattered  and  over- 
turned, with  half  a  dozen  men  toiling  about  it.  The 
girl  stopped  with  a  little  gasp,  for  there  was  something 
strangely  impressive  in  the  sight  of  the  wreck. 

"  It's  dreadful,  isn't  it?  "  she  exclaimed. 

Then  the  men  who  had  come  with  them  gathered 
round. 

"  Where's  the  fireman  ?  "  one  of  them  asked.  "  He 
was  too  late  when  he  jumped.  Have  they  got  him 
out?" 

"  Guess  not,"  said  another.  "  See,  they're  trying 
to  jack  up  the  front  of  her." 


A  MATTER  OF  DUTY  33 

"  Aren't  you  mistaken  about  the  man  ?  "  George 
asked,  looking  at  the  first  speaker  meaningly. 

"Why,  no,"  replied  the  other.  "He's  certainly 
pinned  down  among  the  wreck.  They'll  find  him  be- 
fore long.  Isn't  that  a  jacket  sleeve?  " 

He  broke  off  with  an  exclamation,  as  Edgar  drove 
an  elbow  hard  into  his  ribs ;  but  it  was  too  late.  The 
girl  looked  around  at  George,  white  in  face. 

"Is  there  a  man  beneath  the  engine?  Don't  try 
to  put  me  off." 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  the  case." 

"Then  why  did  you  bring  me?"  she  cried  with  a 
shudder.  "  Take  me  away  at  once !  " 

George  explained  that  he  had  forgotten  the  serious 
nature  of  the  accident.  He  hastily  helped  her  up  and 
turned  away  with  her,  but  when  they  had  gone  a  little 
distance  she  sat  down  on  a  boulder. 

"  I  feel  badly  startled  and  ashamed,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  I  was  enjoying  it,  as  a  spectacle,  and  all  the  time 
there  was  a  man  crushed  to  death."  Then  she  re- 
covered her  composure.  "  Go  back  and  help.  Be- 
sides, I  think  your  friend  is  getting  into  trouble." 

She  was  right.  The  man  Edgar  tried  to  silence 
had  turned  upon  him,  savage  and  rather  breathless. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  I'll  fix  you  mighty  quick.  Think 
I'm  going  to  have  a  blamed  Percy  sticking  his  elbow 
into  me?  " 

Edgar  glanced  at  the  big  and  brawny  man,  with  a 
twinge  of  somewhat  natural  uneasiness;  but  he  was 
not  greatly  daunted. 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  retorted  coolly.  "  if  that's  the  way 
you  look  at  it !  But  if  you're  not  in  a  desperate  hurry, 
I'll  take  off  my  jacket." 


34  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"What  did  you  prod  him  for,  anyway?"  another 
asked. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  didn't  jab  him  twice  as  hard;  though 
I'd  have  wasted  my  energy,"  Edgar  explained.  "  The 
fellow  has  no  sense,  but  that's  no  reason  why  he 
should  be  allowed  to  frighten  a  pretty  girl." 

His  antagonist  looked  as  if  a  light  had  suddenly 
dawned  on  him. 

"  Is  that  why  you  did  it?  " 

"Of  course !  Do  you  think  I'd  attack  a  man  of 
nearly  twice  my  weight  without  some  reason  ?  " 

The  fellow  laughed. 

"  We'll  let  it  go  at  that.  You're  all  right,  Percy. 
We  like  you." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Edgar ;  "  but  my  name  isn't  Percy. 
Couldn't  you  think  of  something  more  stylish  for  a 
change?  " 

They  greeted  this  with  hoarse  laughter ;  and  George, 
arriving  on  the  scene,  scrambled  down  into  the  pit 
with  them  to  help  the  men  below.  It  was  some  time 
later  when  he  rejoined  the  girl,  who  was  then  gather- 
ing berries  in  the  wood.  She  saw  that  his  face  and 
hands  were  grimy  and  his  clothes  were  soiled. 

"  I  heard  that  you  found  the  unfortunate  man.  It 
was  very  sad,"  she  said.  "  But  what  have  you  been 
doing  since  ?  " 

"  Shoveling  a  ton  or  two  of  gravel.  Then  I  assisted 
in  jacking  up  one  side  of  the  engine." 

"Why?     Did  you  enjoy  it  ?" 

George  laughed;  he  had,  as  it  happened,  experi- 
enced a  curious  pleasure  in  the  work.  He  was  accus- 
tomed to  the  more  vigorous  sports ;  but,  after  all,  they 
led  to  no  tangible  results,  and  in  this  respect  his  re- 


A  MATTER  OF  DUTY  35 

cent  task  was  different  —  one,  as  he  thought  of  it, 
could  see  what  one  had  done.  He  had  been  endowed 
with  some  ability  of  strictly  practical  description, 
though  it  had  so  far  escaped  development. 

"  Yes,"  he  responded.     "  I  enjoyed  it  very  much." 

The  girl  regarded  him  with  a  trace  of  curiosity. 

"  Was  that  because  work  of  the  kind  is  new  to 
you?" 

"  No,"  George  answered.  "  It  isn't  altogether  a 
novelty.  I  once  spent  three  years  in  manual  labor ; 
and  now  when  I  look  back  at  them,  I  believe  I  was 
happy  then." 

She  nodded  as  if  she  understood. 

"  Shall  we  walk  back  ?  "  she  suggested. 

They  went  on  together,  and  though  the  sun  was  now 
fiercely  hot  and  the  distance  long,  George  enjoyed 
the  walk.  Once  they  met  a  ballast  train,  with  a  steam 
plow  mounted  at  one  end  of  it,  and  a  crowd  of  men 
riding  on  the  open  cars ;  but  when  it  had  passed  there 
was  nothing  to  break  the  deep  silence  of  the  woods. 
The  dark  firs  shut  in  the  narrow  track  except  when 
here  and  there  a  winding  lake  or  frothing  river  filled 
a  sunny  opening. 

Soon  after  George  and  his  companion  reached  the 
train,  the  engine  came  back  with  a  row  of  freight - 
cars,  and  during  the  afternoon  the  western  express 
pulled  out  again,  and  sped  furiously  through  the  shad- 
owy bush. 


CHAPTER  IV 

GEORGE    MAKES   FRIENDS 

IT  was  nearing  midnight  when  George  walked  im- 
patiently up  and  down  the  waiting-room  in  Winni- 
peg station,  for  the  western  express  was  very  late, 
and  nobody  seemed  to  know  when  it  would  start. 
George  was  nevertheless  interested  in  his  surround- 
ings, and  with  some  reason.  The  great  room  was 
built  in  palatial  style,  with  domed  roof,  tessellated 
marble  floor,  and  stately  pillars;  it  was  brilliantly 
lighted;  and  massively- framed  paintings  of  snow- 
capped peaks  and  river  gorges  adorned  the  walls.  An 
excursion-train  from  Winnipeg  Beach  had  just  come 
in,  and  streams  of  young  men  and  women  in  summer 
attire  were  passing  through  the  room.  They  all 
looked  happy  and  prosperous:  he  thought  the  girls' 
light  dresses  were  gayer  and  smarter  than  those  usually 
seen  among  a  crowd  of  English  passengers;  but  there 
was  another  side  to  the  picture. 

Rows  of  artistic  seats  ran  here  and  there,  and  each 
was  occupied  by  jaded  immigrants,  worn  out  by  their 
journey  in  the  sweltering  Colonist  cars.  Piles  of 
dilapidated  baggage  surrounded  them,  and  among  it 
exhausted  children  lay  asleep.  Drowsy,  dusty  women, 
with  careworn  faces,  were  huddled  beside  them; 
men  bearing  the  stamp  of  ill-paid  toil  sat  in  dejected 
apathy ;  and  all  about  each  group  the  floor,  which  was 

36 


GEORGE  MAKES  FRIENDS  37 

wet  with  drippings  from  the  roof,  was  strewn  with 
banana  skins,  crumbs,  and  scraps  of  food.  There  had 
been  heavy  rains,  and  the  atmosphere  was  hot  and  hu- 
mid. It  wats,  however,  the  silence  of  these  newcomers 
that  struck  George  most.  There  was  no  grumbling 
among  them  —  they  scarcely  seemed  vigorous  enough 
for  that  —  but  as  he  passed  one  row  he  heard  a  wom- 
an's low  sobbing  and  the  wail  of  a  fretful  child. 

After  a  while  the  girl  he  had  met  on  the  train  ap- 
peared and  intimated  by  a  smile  that  he  might  join 
her.  They  found  an  unoccupied  seat,  and  a  smartly- 
attired  young  man  who  was  approaching  it  stopped 
when  he  saw  them. 

"  Well,"  he  said  coolly,  "  I  guess  I  won't  intrude." 
George  felt  seriously  annoyed  with  him,  but  he  was 
reassured  when  his  companion  laughed  with  candid 
amusement.  Though  there  was  no  doubt  of  her  pretti- 
ness,  he  had  already  noticed  that  she  did  not  impress 
one  most  forcibly  with  the  fact  that  she  was  an  at- 
tractive young  woman.  It  seemed  to  sink  into  the 
background  when  one  spoke  to  her. 

"  It  was  rather  tedious  waiting  in  the  hotel,"  she 
explained.     "  There  was  nobody  I  could  talk  to ;  my 
father  is  busy  with  a  grain  broker." 
"  Then  he  is  a  farmer?  " 
"  Yes,"  said  the  girl,  "  he  has  a  farm." 
"  And  you  live  out  in  the  West  with  him  ?  " 
"Of  course,"  she   said,  smiling.     <;  Still,   I  have 
been  in  Montreal,  and  England."     Then  she  turned 
and  glanced  at  the  jaded  immigrants.     "  One  feels 
sorry  for  them ;  they  have  so  much  to  bear." 

George  felt  that  she  wished  to  change  the  subject 
and  he  followed  her  lead. 


38  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  feel  inclined  to  wonder  where  they  all  go  to 
and  how  you  employ  them.  Your  people  still  seem 
anxious  to  bring  them  in." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  thoughtfully.  "  It's  rather  a 
difficult  question.  Of  course,  we  pay  high  wages  — 
people  who  say  they  must  dispense  with  help  and  can't 
carry  out  useful  projects  would  like  to  see  them  lower 
-  but  there's  the  long  winter  when,  out  West  at  least, 
very  few  men  can  work.  Then  what  the  others  have 
earned  in  summer  rapidly  melts." 

"  But  what  do  the  Canadian  farm-hands  and  me- 
chanics think?  It  wouldn't  suit  them  to  have  wages 
broken  down." 

West  had  come  up  a  few  moments  earlier. 

"  It  doesn't  matter,"  he  laughed ;  "  they  won't  be 
consulted.  It's  the  other  people  who  pull  the  Strings, 
and  they're  adopting  a  forward  policy  —  rush  them 
all  in;  it's  their  lookout  when  they  get  here.  That's 
my  opinion;  though  I'll  own  that  I  know  remarkably 
little  about  western  Canada." 

"  You  won't  admit  he's  right,"  George  said  to  the 
girl. 

She  looked  grave. 

"  Sometimes,"  she  answered,  "  I  wonder." 

Then  she  turned  to  West. 

"  You  don't  seem  impressed  with  the  country,"  she 
said. 

"  As  a  rule,  I  try  to  be  truthful.  The  country 
strikes  me  as  being  pretty  mixed,  full  of  contrasts. 
There's  this  place,  for  instance;  one  could  imagine 
they  had  meant  to  build  a  Greek  temple,  and  now  it 
looks  more  like  a  swimming-bath.  After  planning 


GEORGE  MAKES  FRIENDS  39 

the  rest  magnificently,  why  couldn't  they  put  on  a 
roof  that  wouldn't  leak  ?  " 

"  It  has  been  an  exceptionally  heavy  rain,"  the  girl 
reminded  him. 

"  Just  so.  But  couldn't  somebody  get  a  broom  and 
sweep  the  water  out?  Our  unimaginative  English 
folk  could  rise  as  far  as  that." 

She  laughed  good-humoredly,  and  her  father  saun- 
tered up  to  them. 

"  Any  news  of  the  train  yet  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Xo,  sir,"  said  Edgar.  "  In  my  opinion,  any  at- 
tempt to  extract  reliable  information  from  a  Canadian 
railroad-hand  is  a  waste  of  time.  No  doubt,  it's  so 
scarce  that  it  hurts  them  to  part  with  it." 

The  Westerner  looked  at  him  with  a  little  hard 
-smile.  He  was  tall  and  gaunt  and  dressed  in  baggy 
clothes,  but  there  was  a  hint  of  power  in  his  face, 
which  was  lined,  and  deeply  bronzed  by  exposure 
to  the  weather. 

"  Well,"  he  retorted,  "  what  do  you  expect,  Percy, 
if  yon  talk  to  them  like  that?  But  I  want  to  thank 
you  and  your  partner  for  taking  care  of  my  girl  when 
she  went  to  see  the  wreck.  Fellow  on  the  cars  told 
me  —  said  you  were  a  gritty  pup !  " 

Edgar  looked  confused,  but  the  man  drew  an  old 
skin  bag  out  of  his  pocket. 

"  It's  domestic  leaf;  take  a  smoke." 

"  No,  thanks,"  said  Edgar  quickly.  "  I've  no 
doubt  it's  excellent,  but  I  really  prefer  the  common 
Virginia  stuff." 

"  Matter  of  habit,"  replied  the  other.  "  I  don't 
carry  cigars;  they're  expensive.  Going  far  West?" 


40  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  We  get  off  at  Sage  Butte." 

"  It's  called  Butte.     I'm  located  in  that  district." 

"  Then  I  wonder  if  you  knew  an  Englishman  named 
Marston?"  George  interposed. 

"  I  certainly  did ;  he  died  last  winter.  Oughtn't  to 
have  come  out  farming;  he  hadn't  the  grip." 

George  felt  surprised.  He  had  always  admired 
Marston,  who  had  excelled  in  whatever  he  took  in 
hand.  It  was  strange  and  disconcerting  to  hear 
him  disparaged. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Why,  yes.  I've  nothing  against  the  man.  I 
liked  him  —  guess  everybody  did  —  but  the  contract 
he  was  up  against  was  too  big  for  him.  Had  his 
first  crop  frozen,  and  lost  his  nerve  and  judgment 
after  that  —  the  man  who  gets  ahead  here  must  have 
the  grit  to  stand  up  against  a  few  bad  seasons.  Mar- 
ston acted  foolishly;  wasted  his  money  buying  ma- 
chines and  teams  he  could  have  done  without,  and  then 
let  up  when  he  saw  it  wouldn't  pay  him  to  use  them 
right  off;  but  that  was  part  his  wife's  fault.  She 
drove  him  pretty  hard  —  though,  in  some  ways,  I 
guess  he  needed  it." 

George  frowned.  Sylvia,  he  admitted,  was  am- 
bitious, and  she  might  have  put  a  little  pressure  upon 
Marston  now  and  then ;  but  that  she  should  have  urged 
him  on  toward  ruin  in  her  eagerness  to  get  rich  was 
incredible. 

"  I  think  you  must  be  mistaken  about  his  wife,"  he 
remarked. 

"  Well,"  drawled  the  Canadian,  "  I'm  not  always 
right- 


GEORGE  MAKES  FRIENDS  41 

Then  a  bell  tolled  outside,  an  official  shouted  the 
names  of  towns,  and  there  was  a  sudden  stir  and 
murmur  of  voices  in  the  great  waiting-room.  Men 
seized  their  bags  and  bundles,  women  dragged  sleepy 
children  to  their  feet,  and  a  crowd  began  to  press 
about  the  outlet. 

"  Guess  that's  our  train.  She's  going  to  be  pretty 
full,"  said  the  Canadian. 

The  party  joined  a  stream  of  hurrying  passengers, 
and  regretted  their  haste  when  they  were  violently 
driven  through  the  door  and  into  a  railed-off  space 
on  the  platform,  where  shouting  railroad-hands  were 
endeavoring  to  restrain  the  surging  crowd.  Nobody 
heeded  them ;  the  immigrants'  patience  was  exhausted, 
and  they  had  suddenly  changed  from  a  dully  apathetic 
multitude  waiting  in  various  stages  of  dejection  to 
a  savage  mob  fired  by  one  determined  purpose.  Near 
by  stood  a  long  row  of  lighted  cars,  and  the  immi- 
grants meant  to  get  on  board  them  without  loss  of 
time.  There  were  two  gates,  guarded  by  officials  who 
endeavored  to  discriminate  between  the  holders  of 
first  and  second  class  tickets,  but  the  crowd  was  in  no 
mood  to  submit  to  the  separation. 

It  raged  behind  the  barrier,  and  when  one  gate  was 
rashly  pushed  back  a  little  too  far,  a  clamorous,  jos- 
tling mass  of  humanity  stormed  the  opening.  Its 
guardians  were  flung  aside,  helpless,  and  the  foremost 
of  the  mob  poured  out  upon  the  platform,  while  the 
pressure  about  the  gap  grew  insupportable.  Women 
screamed,  children  were  reft  away  from  their 
mothers,  panting  men  trampled  over  bags  and  bundles 
torn  from  their  owners'  hands,  and  George  and  the 
elderly  Canadian  struggled  determinedly  to  prevent 


42  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

the  girl's  being  badly  crushed.  Edgar  had  disap- 
peared, though  they  once  heard  his  voice,  raised  in 
angry  protest. 

They  were  forced  close  up  to  the  outlet,  when  there 
was  a  check.  More  officials  had  been  summoned; 
somebody  had  dropped  a  heavy  box  which  obstructed 
the  passage,  and  a  group  of  passengers  began  a  sav- 
age fight  for  its  recovery.  George  seized  a  man  who 
was  jostling  the  girl  and  thrust  him  backward;  but 
the  next  moment  he  was  struck  by  somebody,  and  he 
saw  nothing  of  his  companions  when,  after  being  vio- 
lently driven  to  and  fro,  he  reached  the  gate.  A 
woman  with  two  screaming  children  clinging  to  her 
appeared  beside  him,  and  he  held  a  man  so  that  she 
might  pass.  He  was  breathless,  and  almost  ex- 
hausted, but  he  secured  her  a  little  room;  and  then 
the  pressure  suddenly  slackened.  The  crowd  swept 
out  like  a  flood  from  a  broken  dam,  and  in  a  few 
more  moments  George  stood,  gasping,  on  the  plat- 
form amid  a  thinner  stream  of  running  people.  There 
was  no  sign  of  the  Canadian  or  his  daughter;  the 
cars  were  besieged;  and  George  waited  until  Edgar 
joined  him,  flushed  and  disheveled. 

"  I  suppose  I  was  lucky  in  getting  through  with 
only  my  jacket  badly  torn,"  said  the  lad.  "  I  won- 
dered why  the  railroad  people  caged  up  their  pas- 
sengers behind  iron  bars,  but  now  I  know." 

George  laughed. 

"  I  don't  think  this  kind  of  thing  is  altogether  usual. 
Owing  to  the  accident,  they've  no  doubt  had  two  train- 
loads  to  handle  instead  of  one.  But  the  platform's 
emptying;  shall  we  look  for  a  place?" 

They  managed  to  enter  a  car,  though  the  stream  of 


GEORGE  MAKES  FRIENDS  43 

passengers,  pouring  in  by  the  two  vestibules,  met 
within  in  dire  confusion,  choking  up  the  passage  with 
their  baggage.  Order  was,  however,  restored  at  last ; 
and,  with  the  tolling  of  the  bell,  and  a  jerk  that  flung 
those  unprepared  off  their  feet,  the  great  express  got 
off. 

"  Nobody  left  behind,"  Edgar  announced,  after  a 
glance  through  the  window.  "  I  can't  imagine  where 
they  put  them  all;  though  I've  never  seen  a  train  like 
this.  But  what  has  become  of  our  Canadian 
friends?" 

George  said  he  did  not  know,  and  Edgar  resumed : 

"  I'm  rather  taken  with  the  girl  —  strikes  me  as 
intelligent  as  well  as  fetching.  The  man's  a  grim  old 
savage,  but  I'm  inclined  to  think  he's  prosperous; 
when  a  fellow  says  he  can't  afford  cigars  I  generally 
suspect  him  of  being  rich.  It's  a  pity  that  stinginess 
is  one  of  the  roads  to  affluence." 

The  car,  glaringly  lighted  by  huge  lamps,  was 
crowded  and  very  hot,  and  after  a  while  George  went 
out  on  to  the  rear  platform  for  a  breath  of  air.  The 
train  had  now  left  the  city,  and  glancing  back  as  it 
swung  around  a  curve,  he  wondered  how  one  loco- 
motive could  haul  the  long  row  of  heavy  cars.  Then 
he  looked  out  across  the  wide  expanse  of  grass  that 
stretched  away  in  the  moonlight  to  the  dim  blur  of 
woods  on  the  horizon.  Here  and  there  clumps  of 
willows  dotted  the  waste,  but  it  lay  silent  and  empty, 
without  sign  of  human  life.  The  air  was  pleasantly 
fresh  after  heavy  rain;  and  the  stillness  of  the  vast 
prairie  was  soothing  by  contrast  with  the  tumult  from 
which  they  had  recently  escaped. 

Lighting  his  pipe,  George  leaned  contentedly  on  the 


44  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

rail.  Then  remembering  what  the  Canadian  had 
said,  he  thought  of  his  old  friend  Marston,  a  man 
of  charm  and  varied  talents,  whom  he  had  long  ad- 
mired and  often  rather  humbly  referred  to.  It  was 
hard  to  understand  how  Dick  had  failed  in  Canada, 
and  harder  still  to  see  why  he  had  made  his  plodding 
comrade  his  executor ;  for  George,  having  seldom  had 
occasion  to  exert  his  abilities,  had  no  great  belief 
in  them.  He  had  suffered  keenly  when  Sylvia  mar- 
ried Dick,  but  the  homage  he  had  offered  her  had  al- 
ways been  characterized  by  diffidence,  springing  from 
a  doubt  that  she  could  be  content  with  him;  and 
after  a  sharp  struggle  he  succeeded  in  convincing  him- 
self that  his  wound  did  not  matter  if  she  were  happier 
with  the  more  brilliant  man.  He  had  entertained  no 
hard  thoughts  of  her:  Sylvia  could  do  no  wrong. 
His  love  for  her  sprang  rather  from  respect  than  pas- 
sion; in  his  eyes  she  was  all  that  a  woman  ought  to 
be. 

In  the  meanwhile  his  new  friends  were  discussing 
him  in  a  car  farther  back  along  the  train. 

"  I'm  glad  I  had  that  Englishman  by  me  in  the 
crowd,"  the  man  remarked.  "  He's  cool  and  kept  his 
head,  did  what  was  needed  and  nothing  else.  I  al- 
low you  owe  him  something  for  bringing  you 
through." 

;'  Yes,"  said  the  girl;  "  he  was  quick  and  resolute." 
Then  reserving  the  rest'  of  her  thoughts,  she  added : 
"  His  friend's  amusing." 

"  Percy?  Oh,  yes,"  agreed  her  father.  "  Nothing 
to  notice  about  him  —  he's  just  one  of  the  boys.  The 
other's  different.  What  that  fellow  takes  in  hand 
he'll  go  through  with." 


GEORGE  MAKES  FRIENDS  45 

"  You  haven't  much  to  form  an  opinion  on." 

"  That  doesn't  count.  I  can  tell  if  a  man's  to  be 
trusted  when  I  see  him." 

"  You're  generally  right,"  the  girl  admitted. 
"  You  were  about  Marston.  I  was  rather  impressed 
by  him  when  he  first  came  out." 

Her  father  smiled. 

"  Just  so.  Marston  had  only  one  trouble  —  he 
was  all  on  top.  You  saw  all  his  good  points  in  the 
first  few  minutes.  It  was  rough  on  him  that  they 
weren't  the  ones  that  are  needed  in  this  country."  . 

"  It's  a  country  that  demands  a  great  deal,"  the  girl 
said  thoughtfully. 

"  Sure,"  was  the  dry  reply.  "  The  prairie  breaks 
the  weak  and  shiftless  pretty  quick;  we  only  have 
room  for  hard  men  who'll  stand  up  against  whatever 
comes  along." 

"And  do  you  think  that  description  fits  the  Eng- 
lishman we  met  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  her  father,  "  I  guess  he  wouldn't 
back  down  if  things  went  against  him." 

He  went  out  for  a  smoke,  and  -the  girl  considered 
what  he  had  said.  It  was  not  a  matter  of  much 
consequence,  but  she  knew  he  seldom  made  mistakes, 
and  in  this  instance  she  agreed  with  him.  As  it 
happened,  George's  English  relatives  included  one  or 
two  clever  people,  but  none  of  them  held  his  talents 
in  much  esteem.  They  thought  him  honest,  rather 
painstaking,  and  good-natured,  but  that  was  all.  It 
was  left  for  two  strangers  to  form  a  juster  opinion; 
which  was,  perhaps,  a  not  altogether  unusual  thing. 
Besides,  the  standards  are  different  in  western  Canada. 
There,  a  man  is  judged  by  what  he  can  do. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    PRAIRIE 

AFTER  a  hot  and  tedious  journey,  George  and 
his  companion  alighted  one  afternoon  at  a  little 
station  on  a  branch  line,  and  Edgar  looked  about  with 
interest  when  the  train  went  on  again.  A  telegraph 
office  with  a  baggage-room  attached  occupied  the  mid- 
dle of  the  low  platform,  a  tall  water-tank  stood  at 
the  end,  and  three  grain  elevators  towered  high  above 
a  neighboring  side-track.  Facing  the  track,  stood  a 
row  of  wooden  buildings  varying  in  size  and  style : 
they  included  a  double-storied  hotel  with  a  veranda  in 
front  of  it,  and  several  untidy  shacks.  Running  back 
from  them,  two  short  streets,  thinly  lined  with  small 
houses,  led  to  a  sea  of  grass. 

"  Sage  Butte  doesn't  strike  one  as  a  very  exhilarat- 
ing place,"  George  remarked.  "  We'll  stroll  round  it, 
and  then  see  about  rooms,  since  we  have  to  stay  the 
night." 

They  left  the  station,  but  the  main  street  had  few 
attractions  to  offer.  Three  stores,  with  strangely- 
assorted,  dusty  goods  in  their  windows  fronted  the 
rickety  plankwalk ;  beyond  these  stood  a  livery  stable, 
a  Chinese  laundry,  and  a  few  dwelling-houses. 
Several  dilapidated  wagons  and  buggies  were  scat- 
tered about  the  uneven  road.  In  the  side  street, 
disorderly  rows  of  agricultural  implements  surrounded 

46 


THE  PRAIRIE  47 

a  store,  and  here  and  there  little  board  dwellings  with 
wire  mosquito-doors  and  net-guarded  windows,  stood 
among  low  trees.  Farther  back  were  four  very  small 
wooden  churches.  It  was  unpleasantly  hot,  though  a 
fresh  breeze  blew  clouds  of  dust  through  the  place. 

"  I've  seen  enough,"  said  Edgar.  "  The  Butte  isn't 
pretty;  we'll  assume  it's  prosperous,  though  I  haven't 
noticed  much  sign  of  activity  yet.  Let's  go  to  the 
hotel." 

When  they  reached  it,  several  untidy  loungers  sat 
half  asleep  in  the  shade  of  the  veranda,  and  though 
they  obstructed  the  approach  to  the  entrance  none  of 
them  moved.  Passing  behind  them,  George  opened  a 
door  filled  in  with  wire-mesh,  and  they  entered  a  hot 
room  with  a  bare  floor,  furnished  with  a  row  of  plain 
wooden  chairs.  After  they  had  rung  a  bell  for 
several  minutes,  a  man  appeared  and  looked  at  them 
with  languid  interest  from  behind  a  short  counter. 

"  Can  you  put  us  up  ?  "  George  inquired. 

"  Sure,"  was  the  answer. 

The  man  flung  down  a  labeled  key,  twisted  round 
his  register,  which  was  fitted  in  a  swivel  frame,  and 
handed  George  a  pen. 

"  We  want  two  rooms,"  Edgar  objected. 

"  Can't  help  that.     We've  only  got  one." 

"  I  suppose  we'd  better  take  it.  Where  can  one 
get  a  drink?" 

"  Bar,"  replied  the  other,  indicating  a  gap  in  a 
neighboring  partition. 

'  They're  laconic  in  this  country,"  Edgar  remarked. 
"  Ever  since  I  arrived  in  it,  I've  felt  as  if  I  were  a 
mere  piece  of  baggage,  to  be  hustled  along  anyway 
without  my  wishes  counting." 


48  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  You'll  get  used  to  it  after  a  while,"  George  con- 
soled him. 

Entering  the  dark  bar,  Edgar  refreshed  himself  with 
several  ice-cooled  drinks,  served  in  what  he  thought 
were  unusually  small  glasses.  He  felt  somewhat 
astonished  when  he  paid  for  them. 

"  Thirst's  expensive  on  the  prairie,"  he  commented. 

"  Pump  outside,"  drawled  the  attendant.  "  It's 
rather  mean  water." 

They  went  upstairs  to  a  very  scantily  furnished, 
doubled-bedded  room.  George,  warned  by  previous 
experience,  glanced  around. 

"  There's  soap  and  a  towel,  anyway ;  but  I  don't 
see  any  water,"  he  remarked.  "I'll  take  the  jar; 
they'll  have  a  rain-tank  somewhere  about." 

Edgar  did  not  answer  him.  He  was  looking  out 
of  the  open  window,  and  now  that  there  was  little  to 
obstruct  his  view,  the  prospect  interested  him.  It  had 
been  a  wet  spring,  and  round  the  vast  half-circle  he 
commanded  the  prairie  ran  back  to  the  horizon, 
brightly  green,  until  its  strong  coloring  gave  place  in 
the  distance  to  soft  neutral  tones.  It  was  blotched 
with  crimson  flowers ;  in  the  marshy  spots  there  were 
streaks  of  purple;  broad  squares  of  darker  wheat 
checkered  the  sweep  of  grass,  and  dwarf  woods  strag- 
gled across  it  in  broken  lines.  In  one  place  was  the 
gleam  of  a  little  lake.  Over  it  all  there  hung  a  sky 
of  dazzling  blue,  across  which  great  rounded  cloud- 
masses  rolled. 

Edgar  looked  around  as  George  came  in  with  the 
water. 

"  That's  great ! "  he  exclaimed,  indicating  the 
prairie;  and  then,  turning  toward  the  wooden  town, 


THE  PRAIRIE  49 

he  added :  "  What  a  frightful  mess  man  can  make 
of  pretty  things!  Still,  I've  no  doubt  the  people  who 
built  the  Butte  are  proud  of  it." 

"If  you  talk  to  them  in  that  style,  you'll  soon  dis- 
cover their  opinion,"  George  laughed ;  "  but  I  don't 
think  it  would  be  wise." 

Soon  afterward  a  bell  rang  for  supper,  and  going 
down  to  a  big  room,  they  found  seats  at  a  table  which 
had  several  other  occupants.  Two  of  them,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  railroad-hands,  were  simply  dressed  in 
trousers  and  slate-colored  shirts,  and  when  they 
rested  their  elbows  on  the  tablecloth,  they  left  grimy 
smears.  George  thought  the  third  man  of  the  party, 
who  was  neatly  attired,  must  be  the  station-agent ;  the 
fourth  was  unmistakably  a  newly-arrived  Englishman. 
As  soon  as  they  were  seated,  a  very  smart  young 
woman  came  up  and  rattled  off  the  names  of  various 
unfamiliar  dishes. 

"  I  think  I'll  have  a  steak ;  I  know  what  that  is," 
Edgar  told  her. 

She  withdrew,  and  presently  surrounded  him  with 
an  array  of  little  plates,  at  which  he  glanced  dubi- 
ously before  he  attacked  the  thin,  hard  steak  with 
a  nickeled  knife  which  failed  to  make  a  mark  on  it. 
When  he  made  a  more  determined  effort,  it  slid  away 
from  him,  sweeping  some  greasy  fried  potatoes  off  his 
plate,  and  he  grew  hot  under  the  stern  gaze  of  the 
girl,  who  reappeared  with  some  coffee  he  had  not 
ordered. 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  take  it  away  before  I  do 
more  damage,  and  let  me  have  some  fish,"  he  said 
humbly. 

"  Another  time  you'll  say  what  you  waat  at  first. 


50  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

You  can't  prospect  right  through  the  menu,"  she  re- 
buked him. 

In  the  meanwhile  George  had  been  describing  his 
companions  on  the  train  to  one  of  the  men  opposite. 

"  He  told  me  he  was  located  in  the  district,  but  I 
didn't  learn  his  name,  and  he  didn't  get  off  here,"  he 
explained.  "  Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"Sure,"  said  the  other.  "It's  Alan  Grant,  of 
Poplar,  'bout  eighteen  miles  back.  Guess  he  went  on 
to  the  next  station  —  a  little  farther,  but  it's  easier 
driving,  now  they're  dumping  straw  on  the  trail." 

"Putting  straw  on  the  road?"  Edgar  broke  in. 
"Why  are  they  doing  that?" 

"  You'll  see,  if  you  drive  out  north,"  the  man  an- 
swered shortly.  Then  he  turned  to  his  better-dressed 
companion.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that 
carload  of  lumber  we  got  for  Grant  ?  " 

"  Send  the  car  on  to  Benton." 

"  She's  billed  here." 

"  Can't  help  that  —  the  road's  mistake.  Grant  or- 
dered all  his  stuff  to  Benton.  What  he  says  goes." 

This  struck  George  as  significant  —  it  was  only  a 
man  of  importance  whose  instructions  would  be  treated 
with  so  much  deference.  Then  the  agent  turned  to 
Edgar. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  this  country?  " 

"  The  country's  very  nice.  So  far  as  I've  seen 
them,  I  can't  say  as  much  for  the  towns;  they  might 
be  prettier." 

"Might  be  prettier?"  exclaimed  the  agent.  "If 
they're  not  good  enough  for  you,  why  did  you  come 
here  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  sure  it  was  a  very  judicious  move.     But, 


THE  PRAIRIE  51 

you  see,  I  didn't  know  what  the  place  was  like;  and, 
after  all,  an  experience  of  this  kind  is  supposed  to  be 
bracing." 

The  agent  ignored  Edgar  after  this.  He  talked  to 
George,  and  elicited  the  information  that  the  latter 
meant  to  farm.  Then  he  got  up,  followed  by  two 
of  the  others,  and  the  remaining  man  with  the  Eng- 
lish appearance  turned  to  George  diffidently. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  want  a  teamster  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  believe  I'll  want  two,"  was  the  answer.  "  But 
I'm  afraid  I'll  have  to  hire  Canadians." 

The  man's  face  fell.  He  looked  anxious,  and 
George  remembered  having  seen  a  careworn  woman 
tearfully  embracing  him  before  their  steamer  sailed. 
Her  shabby  clothes  and  despairing  face  had  roused 
George's  sympathy. 

"  Well,"  said  the  man  dejectedly,  "  that's  for  you  to 
decide;  but  I've  driven  horses  most  of  my  life,  and 
until  I  get  used  to  things  I'd  be  reasonable  about  the 
pay.  I  was  told  these  little  places  were  the  best  to 
strike  a  job  in;  but,  so  far  as  I  can  find  out,  there's 
not  much  chance  here." 

George  felt  sorry  for  him.  He  suddenly  made  up 
his  mind. 

"  What  are  farm  teamsters  getting  now?  "  he  asked 
a  man  who  was  leaving  an  adjacent  table. 

'  Thirty  dollars  a  month,"  was  the  answer. 

'  Thanks,"  said  George,  turning  again  to  the  Eng- 
lishman. "  Be  ready  to  start  with  us  to-morrow. 
I'll  take  you  at  thirty  dollars;  but  if  I  don't  get  my 
value  out  of  you,  we'll  have  to  part." 

"  No  fear  of  that,  sir,"  replied  the  other,  in  a  tone 
of  keen  satisfaction. 


52  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

When  they  got  outside,  Edgar  looked  at  George 
with  a  smile. 

"  I'm  glad  you  engaged  the  fellow,"  he  said ;  "  but 
considering  that  you'll  have  to  teach  him,  were  you 
not  a  little  rash  ?  " 

"  I'll  find  out  by  and  by."  George  paused,  and 
continued  gravely :  "  It's  a  big  adventure  these  peo- 
ple make.  Think  of  it  —  the  raising  of  the  passage 
money  by  some  desperate  economy,  the  woman  left 
behind  with  hardly  enough  to  keep  her  a  month  or 
two,  the  man's  fierce  anxiety  to  find  some  work! 
When  I  saw  how  he  was  watching  me,  I  felt  I  had  to 
hire  him." 

"  Just  so,"  responded  Edgar.  "  I  suppose  I  ought 
to  warn  you  that  doing  things  of  the  kind  may  get 
you  into  trouble  some  day ;  but  cold-blooded  prudence 
never  did  appeal  to  me."  He  took  one  of  the  chairs 
in  front  of  the  building  and  filled  his  pipe  before  he 
continued :  "  We'll  sit  here  a  while,  and  then  we 
might  as  well  stroll  across  the  plain.  The  general- 
room  doesn't  strike  me  as  an  attractive  place  to  spend 
the  evening  in." 

An  hour  later  they  left  the  tall  elevators  and  strag- 
gling town  behind,  and  after  brushing  through  a  belt 
of  crimson  flowers,  they  followed  the  torn-up  black 
trail  that  led  into  the  waste.  After  a  mile  or  two  it 
broke  into  several  divergent  rows  of  ruts,  and  they 
went  on  toward  a  winding  line  of  bluff  across  the  short 
grass.  Reaching  that,  they  pushed  through  the  thin 
wood  of  dwarf  birch  and  poplar,  skirting  little  pools 
from  which  mallard  rose;  and  then,  crossing  a  long 
rise,  they  sat  down  to  smoke  on  its  farther  side.  Sage 
Butte  had  disappeared,  the  sun  had  dipped,  and  the 


THE  PRAIRIE  53 

air  .was  growing  wonderfully  fresh  and  cool.  Here 
and  there  a  house  or  barn  rose  from  the  sweep  of 
grass;  but  for  the  most  part  it  ran  back  into  the 
distance  lonely  and  empty.  It  was  steeped  in  strong, 
cold  coloring,  but  on  its  western  rim  there  burned  a 
vivid  flush  of  rose  and  saffron.  Edgar  was  impressed 
by  its  vastness  and  silence. 

"This,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  "makes  up  for  a 
good  deal.  Once  you  get  clear  of  the  railroad,  it's  a 
captivating  country." 

"  Have  you  decided  yet  what  you're  going  to  do 
in  it?" 

"  It's  too  soon,"  Edgar  rejoined.  "  The  family 
idea  was  that  I  should  stay  about  twelve  months,  and 
then  go  back  and  enter  some  profession.  Ethel  seems 
quite  convinced  that  a  little  roughing  it  will  prove 
beneficial.  I  might,  however,  stop  out  and  try  farm- 
ing, which  is  one  reason  why  you  can  have  my  serv- 
ices for  nothing  for  a  time.  Considering  what  local 
wages  are,  don't  you  think  you're  lucky  ?  " 

"  That,"  laughed  George,  "  remains  to  be  seen." 

"  Anyhow,  there's  no  doubt  that  Sylvia  Marston 
scores  in '  securing  you  on  the  same  favorable  terms. 
It  has  struck  me  that  she's  a  woman  who  gets  things 
easily." 

"  She  hasn't  always  done  so.  Can  you  imagine, 
for  instance,  what  two  years  on  a  prairie  farm  must 
have  been  to  a  delicate,  fastidious  girl,  brought  up  in 
luxury  ?  " 

"  I've  an  idea  that  Sylvia  would  manage  to  avoid 
a  good  many  of  the  hardships." 

"  Sylvia  would  never  shirk  a  duty,"  George  de- 
clared firmly. 


54  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Edgar  refilled  his  pipe. 

"  I've  been  thinking  about  Dick  Marston,"  he  said. 
"  After  the  way  he  was  generally  regarded  at  home, 
it  was  strange  to  hear  that  Canadian's  opinions;  but 
I've  a  notion  that  this  country's  a  pretty  severe  touch- 
stone. I  mean  that  the  sort  of  qualities  that  make  one 
popular  in  England  may  not  prove  of  much  use  here." 

"  Dick  lost  his  crop;  that  accounts  for  a  good  deal," 
George  said  shortly. 

Edgar,  knowing  how  staunch  he  was  to  his  friends, 
changed  the  subject;  and  when  the  light  grew  dim 
^hey  went  back  to  the  hotel.  Breakfasting  soon  after 
six  the  next  morning,  they  took  their  places  in  a  light, 
four-wheeled  vehicle,  for  which  three  persons'  bag- 
gage made  a  rather  heavy  load,  and  drove  away  with 
the  hired  man.  The  grass  was  wet  with  dew,  the 
air  invigoratingly  cool,  and  for  a  time  the  fresh  team 
carried  them  across  the  waste  at  an  excellent  pace. 
When  he  had  got  used  to  the  frantic  jolting,  Edgar 
found  the  drive  exhilarating.  Poplar  bluffs,  little 
ponds,  a  lake  shining  amid  tall  sedges,  belts  of  dark- 
green  wheat,  went  by;  and  while  the  horses  plunged 
through  tall  barley-grass  or  hauled  the  vehicle  over 
clods  and  ruts,  the  same  vast  prospect  stretched  away 
ahead.  It  filled  the  lad  with  a  curious  sense  of  free- 
dom :  there  was  no  limit  to  the  prairies  —  one  could 
go  on  and  on,  across  still  wider  stretches  beyond  the 
horizon. 

By  and  by,  however,  they  ran  in  among  low  sandy 
hills,  dotted  with  dwarf  pines  here  and  there,  and  the 
pace  slackened.  The  grass  was  thin,  the  wheels  sank 
in  deep,  loose  sand,  and  the  sun  was  getting  un- 
pleasantly hot.  For  half  an  hour  they  drove  on ;  and 


THE  PRAIRIE  55 

then  the  team  came  to  a  standstill,  flecked  with  spume, 
at  the  foot  of  a  short,  steep  rise.  Edgar  alighted  and 
found  the  heat  almost  insupportable.  There  was 
glaring  sand  all  about  him,  and  the  breeze  which  swept 
the  prairie  was  cut  off  by  the  hill  in  front. 

"  You'll  have  to  help  the  team,"  George  told  him, 
as  he  went  to  the  horses'  heads. 

Edgar  and  the  hired  man  each  seized  a  wheel  and 
endeavored  to  start  the  vehicle,  while  the  horses 
plunged  in  the  slipping  sand.  They  made  a  few 
yards,  with  clouds  of  grit  flying  up  about  them,  and 
afterward  came  to  a  stop  again.  Next  they  tried 
pushing;  and  after  several  rests  they  arrived,  breath- 
less and  gasping,  at  the  crest  of  the  rise.  There  was 
a  big  hollow  in  front,  and  on  the  opposite  side  a  ridge 
which  looked  steeper  than  the  last  one. 

"  How  much  do  you  think  there  is  of  this?  "  Edgar 
inquired. 

"  I  can't  say,"  George  answered.  "  I  know  of  one 
belt  that  runs  for  forty  miles." 

Even  walking  downhill  was  laborious,  for  they 
sank  ankle-deep,  but  it  was  very  much  worse  when 
they  faced  the  ascent.  Short  as  the  hill  was,  it  took 
them  some  time  to  climb;  and,  with  the  hired  man's 
assistance,  Edgar  carried  a  heavy  trunk  up  the  last 
part  of  it.  Then  he  sat  down. 

"  I'm  not  sure  I  can  smoke,  but  I  intend  to  try," 
he  said.  "  If  you  mean  to  rush  the  next  hill  right 
off,  you  will  go  without  me."  He  turned  to  the  hired 
man.  "  What  do  you  think  of  these  roads,  Grier- 
son?" 

"  I've  seen  better,  sir,"  the  other  answered  cau- 
tiously. "  Perhaps  the  hills  don't  go  on  very  far." 


56  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Edgar  ruefully  glanced  ahead  at  scattered  pines, 
clumps  of  brush,  and  ridges  of  gleaming  sand. 

"  It's  my  opinion  there's  no  end  to  them !  Hauling 
a  load  of  wheat  through  this  kind  of  country  must 
be  a  bit  of  an  undertaking.*' 

After  a  short  rest,  they  toiled  for  an  hour  through 
the  sand ;  and  then  rode  slowly  over  a  road  thickly 
strewn  with  straw,  which  bore  the  wheels.  It  led 
them  across  lower  ground  to  a  strong  wire  fence, 
where  it  forked :  one  branch  skirting  the  barrier  along 
the  edge  of  a  muskeg,  the  other  running  through  the 
enclosed  land.  Deciding  to  take  the  latter,  George 
got  down  at  the  entrance,  which  was  barred  by  several 
Strands  of  wire,  firmly  fastened. 

"  Half  an  hour's  work  here,"  Edgar  commented. 
"  Driving's  rather  an  arduous  pastime  in  western 
Canada." 

They  crossed  a  long  field  of  barley,  a  breadth  of 
wheat,  and  passed  an  empty  house:  then  wound 
through  a  poplar  wood  until  they  reached  the  grass 
again.  It  was  long  and  rank,  hiding  the  ruts  and 
hollows  in  the  trail;  but  after  stopping  a  while  for 
dinner  in  the  shadow  of  a  bluff,  they  jolted  on,  and 
in  the  afternoon  they  reached  a  smoother  track. 
Crossing  a  low  rise,  they  saw  a  wide  stretch  of  wheat 
beneath  them,  with  a  house  and  other  buildings  near  its 
margin. 

"  That,"  said  George,  "  is  Sylvia's  farm." 

Half  an  hour  later,  they  drove  through  the  wheat,  at 
which  George  glanced  dubiously ;  and  then,  traversing 
a  belt  of  light  sandy  clods  partly  grown  with  weeds, 
they  drew  up  before  the  house.  It  was  double-storied, 
roomy,  and  neatly  built  of  wood;  but  it  was  in  very 


THE  PRAIRIE  57 

bad  repair,  and  the  barn  and  stables  had  a  neglected 
and  half-ruinous  look.  Implements  and  wagons 
which  had  suffered  from  exposure  to  the  weather, 
stood  about  outside.  Edgar  noticed  that  George's 
face  was  grave. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  have  our  work  cut  out,"  he  said. 
"  We'll  put  up  the  team,  and  then  look  round  the 
place  and  see  what  needs  doing  first" 


CHAPTER  VI 

GEORGE   GETS   TO   WORK 

rT  was  an  oppressive  evening,  after  a  day  of 
unusual  heat.  Edgar  sat  smoking  outside  the  home- 
stead. He  had  been  busy  since  six  o'clock  that  morn- 
ing, and  he  felt  tired  and  downcast.  Massed  thunder- 
clouds brooded  over  the  silent  prairie,  wheat  and  grass 
had  faded  to  dingy  green  and  lifeless  gray,  and  Edgar 
tried  to  persuade  himself  that  his  moodiness  was  the 
effect  of  the  weather.  This  was  partly  the  case,  but 
he  was  also  suffering  from  homesickness  and  a  shrink- 
ing from  what  was  new  and  strange. 

The  wooden  house  had  a  dreary,  dilapidated  look; 
the  weathered,  neglected  appearance  of  barns  and 
stables  was  depressing.  It  was  through  a  neighbor- 
ing gap  in  the  fence  that  Marston's  team  had  brought 
their  lifeless  master  home;  and  Edgar  had  seen  enough 
to  realize  that  the  man  must  have  grown  slack  and 
nerveless  before  he  had  succumbed.  The  farm  had 
broken  down  Marston's  strength  and  courage,  and 
now  another  man,  less  gifted  in  many  ways,  had  taken 
it  in  charge.  Edgar  wondered  how  he  would  suc- 
ceed ;  but  in  spite  of  a  few  misgivings  he  had  confidence 
In  George. 

After  a  while  the  latter,  who  had  been  examining 
Marston's  farming  books,  came  out,  looking  grave; 
he  had  worn  a  serious  air  since  their  arrival. 

58 


GEORGE  GETS  TO  WORK  59 

"  There'll  have  to  be  a  change,"  he  said.  "  Dick's 
accounts  have  given  me  something  to  think  about. 
I  believe  I'm  beginning  to  understand  now  how 
his  money  went." 

"  I  suppose  you  haven't  got  the  new  program  cut 
and  dried  yet  ?  "  Edgar  suggested. 

George  was  seldom  precipitate. 

"  No,"  he  answered.  "  I've  a  few  ideas  in  my 
mind." 

"  Won't  you  have  some  trouble  about  finances,  if 
the  alterations  are  extensive?  " 

"  I'll  have  to  draw  on  my  private  account,  unless 
Herbert  will  assist." 

"  Herbert  won't  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  said  Ed- 
gar decidedly. 

George,  making  no  answer,  called  Grierson  from 
the  stable. 

"  You'll  drive  in  to  the  settlement  after  breakfast 
to-morrow,  Tom,"  he  said.  "  Tell  the  man  I'll  keep 
the  team,  if  he'll  knock  off  twenty  dollars,  and  he  can 
have  his  check  when  he  likes.  Then  bring  out  the  flour 
and  groceries." 

"  I  suppose  I  won't  be  going  in  again  for  a  while ; 
we'll  be  too  busy?  " 

"  It's  very  likely,"  said  Edgar,  knowing  his  com- 
rade's temperament. 

"  Then  I  wonder  if  I  could  draw  a  pound  or  two?  " 
asked  Grierson  diffidently. 

"Why?"  George  questioned  him.  "The  Immi- 
gration people  would  see  that  you  had  some  money  be- 
fore they  let  you  in." 

"  I've  four  pounds  now ;  I  want  to  send  something 
home  at  once," 


60  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Ah !  "  said  George.  "  I  see.  How  much  did  you 
leave  your  wife?" 

"  About  three  pounds,  sir ;  I  had  to  bring  enough  to 
pass  me  at  Quebec." 

"  Then  if  you  give  me  what  you  have,  I'll  let  you 
have  a  check  for  twice  as  much  on  an  English  bank. 
Better  get  your  letter  written." 

Grierson's  look  was  very  expressive  as  he  turned 
away  with  a  word  of  thanks;  and  Edgar  smiled  at 
George. 

"  You  have  bought  that  fellow  —  for  an  advance 
of  four  pounds,"  he  said. 

George  showed  a  little  embarrassment. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  the  woman,"  he  explained. 

Then  he  pointed  to  the  prairie. 

"  There's  a  rig  coming.     It  looks  like  visitors." 

Soon  afterward,  Grant,  whom  they  had  met  on 
the  train,  drew  up  his  team  and  helped  his  daughter 
down. 

"  We  were  passing  and  thought  we'd  look  in,"  he 
said.  "  Found  out  yesterday  that  you  were  located 
here." 

George  called  Grierson  to  take  the  team,  and  lead- 
ing the  new  arrivals  to  the  house,  which  was  still  in 
disorder,  he  found  them  seats  in  the  kitchen.  It  was 
rather  roughly  and  inadequately  furnished,  and  Edgar 
had  decided  that  Sylvia  had  spent  little  of  her  time 
there.  After  they  had  talked  for  a  while,  a  man, 
dressed  in  blue  duck  trousers,  a  saffron-colored  shirt, 
and  an  old  slouch  hat,  which  he  did  not  remove, 
walked  in,  carrying  a  riding  quirt.  Grant  returned 
his  greeting  curtly,  and  then  the  man  addressed 
George. 


GEORGE  GETS  TO  WORK  61 

"  I  heard  you  were  running  this  place,"  he  said. 

"  That's  correct." 

"  Then  I  put  in  the  wheat  on  your  summer  fallow ; 
Mrs.  Marston  told  me  to.  Thought  I'd  come  along 
and  let  you  have  the  bill." 

His  manner  was  assertively  offhand,  and  George 
did  not  ask  him  to  sit  down. 

"  It's  a  very  second-rate  piece  of  work,"  George 
said.  "  You  might  have  used  the  land-packer  more 
than  you  did." 

"  It's  good  enough.  Anyway,  I'll  trouble  you  for 
the  money." 

Edgar  was  sensible  of  indignation  mixed  with 
amusement.  This  overbearing  fellow  did  not  know 
George  Lansing. 

"  I  think  you  had  better  take  off  your  hat  before  we 
go  any  farther  —  it's  customary.  Then  you  may  tell 
me  what  I  owe  you." 

The  man  looked  astonished,  but  he  complied  with 
the  suggestion,  and  afterward  stated  his  charge,  which 
was  unusually  high.  Edgar  noticed  that  Grant  was 
watching  George  with  quiet  interest. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  a  note  from  Mrs.  Marston 
fixing  the  price  ?  " 

The  other  explained  that  the  matter  had  been  ar- 
ranged verbally. 

"  Was  anybody  else  present  when  you  came  to 
terms?"  George  asked. 

'  You  can  quit  feeling,  and  pay  up !  "  exclaimed  the 
stranger.  "  I've  told  you  how  much  it  is." 

"  The  trouble  is  that  you're  asking  nearly  double 
the  usual  charge  per  acre." 

Grant  smiled  approvingly,  but  the  man  advanced 


62  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

with  a  truculent  air  to  the  table  at  which  George  was 
sitting. 

"  I've  done  the  work ;  that's  good  enough  for  me." 

"  You  have  done  it  badly,  but  I'll  give  you  a  check 
now,  based  on  the  regular  charge,  which  should  come 
to" — George  made  a  quick  calculation  on  a  strip  of 
paper  and  handed  it  to  the  man.  "  This  is  merely 
because  you  seem  in  a  hurry.  If  you're  not  satisfied, 
you  can  wait  until  I  get  an  answer  from  Mrs.  Mar- 
ston;  or  I'll  ask  some  of  my  neighbors  to  arbitrate." 

The  man  hesitated,  with  anger  in  his  face. 

"  I  guess  I'll  take  the  check,"  he  said  sullenly. 

Crossing  the  floor,  George  took  a  pen  and  some 
paper  from  a  shelf. 

"  Sit  here,"  he  said,  when  he  came  back,  "  and 
write  me  a  receipt." 

The  other  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  George  pointed 
toward  the  door. 

"  That's  settled ;  I  won't  keep  you." 

The  man  looked  hard  at  him,  and  then  went  quietly 
out;  and  Grant  leaned  back  in  his  seat  with  a  soft 
laugh. 

"  You  fixed  him,"  he  remarked.  "  He  has  the  name 
of  being  a  tough." 

"  I  suppose  an  Englishman  newly  out  is  considered 
lawful  prey." 

"  A  few  of  them  deserve  it,"  Grant  returned  dryly. 
"  But  let  that  go.  What  do  you  think  of  the  place  ?  " 

George  felt  that  he  could  trust  the  farmer.  He 
had  spent  a  depressing  day,  during  which  all  he  saw 
had  discouraged  him.  Marston  had  farmed  in  a 
singularly  wasteful  manner;  fences  and  outbuildings 
were  in  very  bad  repair;  half  the  implements  were 


GEORGE  GETS  TO  WORK  63 

useless ;  and  it  would  be  a  long  and  costly  task  to  put 
things  straight. 

"  I  feel  that  I'll  have  my  hands  full.  In  fact,  I'm 
a  little  worried  about  it;  there  are  so  many  changes 
that  must  be  made." 

"  Sure.     Where  are  you  going  to  begin?  " 

"  By  getting  as  much  summer  fallowing  as  possible 
done  on  the  second  quarter-section.  The  first  has 
been  growing  wheat  for  some  time;  I'll  sew  part  of 
that  with  timothy.  There's  one  bit  of  stiff  land  I 
might  put  in  flax.  I've  thought  of  trying  corn  for 
the  silo." 

"  Timothy  and  a  silo  ? "  commented  Grant. 
"  You're  going  in  for  stock,  then  ?  It  means  laying 
out  money,  and  a  slow  return." 

"  I'm  afraid  so.  Still,  you  can't  grow  cereals  year 
after  year  on  this  light  soil.  It's  a  wasteful  practise 
that  will  have  to  be  abandoned,  as  people  here  seem 
to  be  discovering.  Grain  won't  pay  at  sixteen  bushels 
to  the  acre." 

"  A  sure  thing,"  Grant  agreed.  "  I'm  sticking  right 
to  wheat,  but  that's  because  I'm  too  old  to  change 
my  system,  and  I'm  on  black  soil,  which  holds  out 
longer." 

"  But  you're  taking  the  nature  out  of  it." 

"  It  will  see  me  through  if  I  fallow,"  said  Grant. 
"  When  I've  done  with  it  and  sell  out,  somebody  else 
can  experiment  with  mixed  crops  and  stock-raising. 
That's  going  to  become  the  general  plan,  but  it's 
costly  at  the  beginning."  Then  he  rose.  "  I'll  walk 
round  the  place  with  you." 

They  went  out,  and  the  girl  fell  behind  with  Edgar. 
He  had  learned  that  her  name  was  Flora. 


64  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Mr.  Lansing  seems  to  understand  farming,"  she 
remarked.  "  He  didn't  tell  us  he  had  been  on  the 
prairie  before." 

"  He  hasn't  told  you  now,"  Edgar  pointed  out. 
"  George  never  does  tell  things  about  himself  unless 
there's  a  reason." 

"  He  soon  got  rid  of  the  fellow  who  sowed  the 
crop." 

Edgar  laughed. 

"  I  knew  the  man  would  meet  with  a  surprise. 
George's  abilities  are  not,  as  a  rule,  obvious  at  first 
sight.  People  find  them  out  by  accident,  and  then 
they're  somewhat  startled." 

"  You're  evidently  an  admirer  of  his.  Do  you  mean 
to  go  in  for  farming?  " 

"  I  am,  though  I  wouldn't  have  him  suspect  it,"  said 
Edgar.  "  In  answer  to  the  other  question,  I  haven't 
made  up  my  mind.  Farming  as  it's  carried  on  in 
this  country  seems  to  be  a  rather  arduous  occupation. 
In  the  meanwhile,  I'm  undergoing  what  English  peo- 
ple seem  to  think  of  as  the  Canadian  cure ;  that  is, 
I've  been  given  a  chance  for  readjusting  my  ideas  and 
developing  my  character." 

"  Under  Mr.  Lansing's  guidance  ?  " 

Edgar  realized  that  the  girl  was  less  interested  in 
him  than  in  George,  but  he  did  not  resent  this. 

"  You're  smart.  I  believe  my  people  entertained 
some  idea  of  that  nature;  George  is  considered  safe. 
Still,  to  prevent  any  misapprehension,  I'd  better  point 
out  that  my  chief  failings  are  a  fondness  for  looking 
at  the  amusing  side  of  things  and  a  slackness  in  avail- 
ing myself  of  my  opportunities.  As  an  instance  of 


GEORGE  GETS  TO  WORK  65 

the  latter  defect,  I'm  boring  you  by  talking  about  Lan- 
sing." 

Flora  regarded  him  with  a  quiet  smile. 

"  It  struck  me  that  you  were  saying  something  about 
yourself." 

"  I  suppose  that's  true,"  Edgar  admitted.  "  It 
clears  the  ground." 

"For  what?" 

"  For  an  extension  of  our  acquaintance,  among 
other  things." 

"  Do  you  want  it  extended?  " 

They  had  stopped  at  the  edge  of  a  hollow  filled  with 
tall,  harsh  grass,  and  Edgar  studied  her  while  he  con- 
sidered his  answer.  There  was  nothing  that  suggested 
coquetry  in  the  faint  amusement  she  displayed;  this 
was  a  girl  with  some  depth  of  character,  though  he 
realized  that  she  was  pretty.  She  carried  herself 
well ;  she  was  finely  and  strongly  made ;  her  gray  eyes 
were  searching;  and  she  had  a  rather  commanding 
manner.  Her  hair  was  a  warm  brown,  clustering  low 
on  a  smooth  forehead;  nose  and  lips  and  chin  were 
firmly  molded. 

"Yes,"  he  answered  candidly;  "I'm  feeling  the 
strangeness  of  the  country,  and  I've  an  idea  that  both 
George  and  I  may  need  friends  in  it.  It  strikes  me 
that  you  and  your  father  would  prove  useful  ones." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  he's  sometimes  called  hard,  and 
he's  a  little  prejudiced  on  certain  points,  but  he  can  be 
very  staunch  to  those  he  takes  a  liking  to." 

"  I  believe,"  Edgar  rejoined,  "  that  also  applies  to 
you ;  I  don't  mean  the  first  of  it." 

Flora  changed  the  subject. 


66  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  gather  that  you're  not  favorably  impressed  with 
the  place." 

"  I'm  not.  If  I  had  to  farm  it,  I'd  feel  scared;  and 
I  don't  think  George  is  happy.  It's  hard  to  under- 
stand how  Marston  let  it  get  into  such  a  state." 

"  He  was  unfitted  for  the  work,  and  he  was  further 
handicapped." 

"How?"  Edgar  asked. 

"  You  may  have  noticed  that  while  economy  ruled 
outside,  the  house  is  remarkably  well  furnished.  The 
money  Marston  spent  in  Winnipeg  stores  should  have 
gone  into  the  land." 

Edgar  nodded;  he  did  not  agree  with  George's 
opinion  of  Sylvia. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  approve  of  the  way  Mrs.  Mar- 
ston managed  things.  It's  rather  curious.  I  always 
thought  her  pretty  capable  in  some  respects." 

"  That's  very  possible,"  said  Flora  with  a  hint  of 
dryness. 

"  After  all,  it  may  not  have  been  her  fault,"  Edgar 
suggested.  "  Marston  was  a  generous  fellow ;  he  may 
have  insisted  on  thinking  first  of  her  comfort." 

"  Then  she  ought  to  have  stopped  him,"  said  Flora 
firmly.  "  Do  you  think  a  woman  should  let  a  man 
spoil  his  one  chance  of  success  in  order  to  surround 
her  with  luxury  ?  " 

"  The  answer's  obvious." 

A  dazzling  flash  of  lightning  leaped  from  the  mass 
of  somber  cloud  overhead,  and  they  turned  back  to- 
ward the  house,  which  George  and  Grant  reached  soon 
afterward.  Grant  said  that  he  must  get  home  before 
the  storm  broke,  and  Grierson  brought  out  his  spir- 
ited team.  It  had  grown  nearly  dark;  a  curious 


GEORGE  GETS  TO  WORK  67 

leaden  haze  obscured  the  prairie;  and  when  the  man 
was  getting  into  his  light,  spring-seated  wagon,  a 
jagged  streak  of  lightning  suddenly  reft  the  gloom 
and  there  was  a  deafening  roll  of  thunder.  The  horses 
started,  Grant  fell  backward  from  the  step,  dropping 
the  reins;  and  while  the  others  stood  dazzled  by  the 
flash,  the  terrified  animals  backed  the  vehicle  with 
a  crash  against  the  stable.  Then  they  plunged  madly 
forward  toward  the  fence,  with  the  reins  trailing  along 
the  ground.  Flora  had  got  in  before  her  father,  and 
she  was  now  helpless. 

It  was  too  late  when  Grant  got  up;  Grierson  and 
Edgar  were  too  far  away,  and  the  latter  stood  still, 
wondering  with  a  thrill  of  horror  what  the  end  would 
be;  he  did  not  think  the  horses  saw  the  thin  wire 
fence,  and  the  gap  in  it  was  narrow.  If  they  struck 
a  post  in  going  through,  the  vehicle  would  overturn. 
Then  George,  running  furiously,  sprang  at  the  horses' 
heads,  and  went  down,  still  holding  on.  He  was 
dragged  along  a  few  yards,  but  the  pace  slackened, 
and  Ed£ar  ran  forward  with  Grierson  behind  him. 
For  a  few  moments  there  was  a  savage  struggle,  but 
they  stopped  and  held  the  team,  until  Grant  coolly 
cleared  the  reins  and  flung  them  to  his  daughter. 

"  Stick  tight  while  I  get  up,  and  then  watch  out,"  he 
said  to  the  others. 

He  was  seated  in  another  moment,  the  girl  quietly 
making  room  for  him ;  then,  to  Edgar's  astonishment, 
he  lashed  the  frantic  horses  with  the  whip,  and,  plung- 
ing forward,  they  swept  madly  through  the  opening 
in  the  fence,  with  the  wagon  jolting  from  rut  to  rut. 
A  minute  or  two  afterward  they  had  vanished  into 
the  thick  obscurity  that  veiled  the  waste  of  grass,  and 


68  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

there  was  a  dazzling  flash  and  a  stunning  roll  of  thun- 
der. George,  flushed  and  breathless,  looked  around 
with  a  soft  laugh. 

"  Grant  has  pretty  good  nerve,"  he  said. 

"  That's  so,  sir,"  Grierson  agreed.  "  Strikes  me 
he'll  take  some  of  the  wickedness  out  of  his  team  be- 
fore he  gets  them  home.  I  noticed  that  Miss  Grant 
didn't  look  the  least  bit  afraid." 

Then  a  deluge  of  rain  drove  them  into  the  house, 
where  Edgar  sat  smoking  thoughtfully;  for  what 
Flora  Grant  had  said  about  Sylvia  had  a  disturbing 
effect  on  him.  It  looked  as  if  her  selfish  regard  for 
her  comfort  had  hampered  Marston  in  his  struggle; 
and  though  Edgar  had  never  had  much  faith  in  Sylvia, 
this  was  painful  to  contemplate.  Moreover,  George 
cherished  a  steadfast  regard  for  her,  which  compli- 
cated things;  but  Edgar  prudently  decided  that  the 
matter  was  a  delicate  one  and  must  be  left  to  the  peo- 
ple most  concerned.  After  all,  Miss  Grant  might  be 
mistaken. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A    CATTLE   DRIVE 

GEORGE  was  summer  fallowing,  sitting  in  the 
iron  saddle  of  a  plow  which  a  heavy  Clydesdale 
team  hauled  through  the  stubble.  The  work  should 
have  been  done  earlier,  for  the  soil  on  the  Marston 
farm  was  very  light,  and,  as  it  had  already  grown 
several  crops  of  cereals,  George  was  anxious  to  ex- 
pose it  to  the  influence  of  sun  and  wind  as  soon  as 
possible.  It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon 
and  very  hot.  Rounded  cloud-masses  overhung  the 
plain,  but  dazzling  sunshine  fell  on  grass  and  stubble, 
and  a  haze  of  dust  surrounded  the  team,  while  now 
and  then  the  fine  soil  and  sand,  blown  from  the  rest 
of  the  fallow  by  the  fresh  breeze,  swept  by  in  streams. 
George  wore  motor-goggles  to  protect  his  eyes,  but 
his  face  and  hands  felt  scorched  and  sore.  Farther 
back,  Edgar  plodded  behind  a 'lighter  team,  making 
very  poor  progress. 

Presently  George  looked  up  and  saw  Flora  Grant 
riding  toward  him.  She  sat  astride,  but  her  skirt  fell 
in  becoming  lines,  and  he  thought  the  gray  blouse  and 
wide  Stetson  hat,  with  a  red  band  round  it,  most 
effective.  She  reined  up  her  horse  near  the  plow,  and 
George  got  down. 

"  I  was  passing  —  going  on  to  Forsyth's  place  — 

69 


70  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

and  my  father  asked  me  to  call,"  she  said.  "  You 
were  talking  about  buying  cattle,  and  a  man  at  Dun- 
blane has  some  good  Herefords  to  sell.  Father  thinks 
they  would  suit  you." 

"  His  recommendation  carries  weight,"  said  George. 
"  I'll  go  and  see  them.  I  must  thank  you  for  bringing 
me  word." 

"  I've  another  message.  It's  this  —  when  you're 
buying  stock,  be  cautious  how  you  bid." 

"  As  I'm  not  well  up  in  local  prices,  I  wish  Mr. 
Grant  had  been  a  little  plainer." 

"  He  went  farther  than  I  expected.  You  see,  as  a 
friend  of  the  seller,  he's  awkwardly  fixed." 

"  Just  so,"  said  George.  "  But,  if  you're  not  in  the 
same  position,  you  might  give  me  a  hint.  How  much 
is  the  value  of  Canadian  cattle  usually  below  the  price 
likely  to  be  asked  of  a  new  arrival  ?  " 

"  In  this  case,  I  should  say  about  fifty  per  cent," 
Flora  answered,  with  a  laugh. 

"  Thank  you,"  responded  George.  "  I  am  sure 
your  opinion's  to  be  relied  on." 

Edgar  stopped  his  team  near  by,  and  Flora  regarded 
him  with  amusement  as  he  came  toward  them,  his  red 
face  streaked  with  dust. 

"  You  look  a  good  deal  more  like  a  western  farmer 
than  you  did  when  I  saw  you  last,"  she  laughed. 

Edgar  removed  his  goggles  and  surveyed  his  work- 
ing attire  somewhat  disgustedly. 

"  I  wonder  whether  that's  a  compliment ;  but  now 
that  I've  made  the  first  plunge,  I'd  better  go  through 
with  it  —  get  a  flappy  hat  and  a  black  shirt,  or  one 
of  those  brilliant  orange  ones." 

''  The  latter  are  more  decorative.     But,  as  you  are 


A  CATTLE  DRiyE  71 

going  on  a  two  days'  journey  to  drive  some  cattle,  I'll 
tell  you  how  to  find  the  way." 

"  You  had  better  tell  George.  I  can  only  remem- 
ber the  things  that  interest  me." 

Flora  gave  them  clear  instructions,  and  when  she 
rode  away  George  turned  to  Edgar. 

"  You'll  have  to  come,  and  we'll  start  at  once. 
Grierson  can  go  on  plowing  with  the  Clydesdales, 
which  is  more  than  you  could  do." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  must  admit  it,"  said  Edgar,  glancing 
at  his  ragged  furrow.  "  But  I'm  going  to  have  my 
supper  and  put  up  some  provisions  before  I  leave  the 
place." 

They  set  out  an  hour  later,  and  safely  reached  their 
destination,  where  George  purchased  a  dozen  cattle. 
They  were  big,  red  and  white,  long-horned  animals, 
accustomed  to  freedom,  for  fences  are  still  scarce  on 
tracts  of  the  prairie,  and  they  ranged  about  the  corral 
in  a  restless  manner.  Edgar,  leaning  on  the  rails, 
watched  them  dubiously. 

"  They  look  unusually  active,"  he  remarked.  "  I'm 
not  an  expert  at  cattle-driving,  but  I  suppose  two  of 
us  ought  to  take  them  home." 

The  rancher  laughed. 

"  Two's  quite  a  good  allowance  for  that  small  bunch, 
but  if  you  keep  north  among  the  scrub  poplar,  you 
won't  be  bothered  by  many  fences.  It's  pretty  dry 
in  summer,  but  you'll  get  good  water  in  Baxter's 
well,  if  you  head  for  the  big  bluff  you'll  see  to- 
morrow afternoon.  We'll  let  them  out  when  you're 
ready." 

As  soon  as  the  rails  were  flung  down,  the  cattle 
rushed  out  tumultuously,  as  if  rejoicing  in  their  re- 


72  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

stored  freedom.  Then,  \vhile  George  and  his  com- 
panion mounted,  they  started  off  across  the  prairie  at 
a  steady  trot. 

"  A  mettlesome  lot ;  seem  to  be  in  good  training," 
Edgar  commented.  "  Have  you  any  idea  where 
they're  going  ?  " 

"  Guess  they're  heading  for  a  creek  two  miles  back ; 
water's  scarce,"  explained  the  rancher.  "  As  it's  near 
the  trail,  you  had  better  let  them  go.  You'll  round 
them  up  quite  easy  when  they've  had  a  drink." 

George  and  Edgar  rode  after  the  cattle.  The  sun 
was  getting  low,  but  the  temperature  showed  no  signs 
of  falling,  and  the  men  were  soon  soaked  in  perspira- 
tion. The  herd  went  on  at  a  good  pace,  making  for 
a  wavy  line  of  timber,  and  on  reaching  it,  plunged 
down  the  side  of  a  declivity  among  little  scattered 
trees.  A  stream  trickled  through  willow  bushes  and 
tall  grass  in  the  bottom  of  the  hollow,  and  the  men 
had  trouble  in  forcing  the  cattle  to  leave  the  water. 
Before  they  accomplished  it,  Edgar  had  got  very  wet 
and  had  scratched  himself  badly  in  scrambling  through 
the  brush. 

"  Driving  stock  is  by  no  means  so  easy  as  it  looks," 
he  grumbled,  when  they  had  climbed  the  opposite  as- 
cent, leading  their  horses.  "  The  way  these  beasts 
jump  about  among  the  bushes  confuses  you;  I'd  have 
sworn  there  were  forty  of  them  in  the  ravine." 

"  I  see  only  nine  now,"  George  said  pointedly. 

Edgar  looked  back  into  the  hollow. 

"  There  are  three  of  the  brutes  slipping  away  up- 
stream as  fast  as  they  can  go!  You're  smarter  at 
the  thing  than  I  am  —  hadn't  you  better  go  after 
them?" 


A  CATTLE  DRIVE  73 

"  I  expect  I'll  be  needed  to  keep  this  bunch  to- 
gether," George  rejoined. 

Edgar  strode  away,  but  it  was  half  an  hour  later 
when  he  came  back,  hot  and  angry,  with  the  cattle 
crashing  through  the  brush  in  front  of  him.  Then 
the  reunited  herd  set  off  at  a  smart  pace  across  the 
plain. 

"  They  seem  fond  of  an  evening  gallop,"  Edgar 
remarked.  "  Anyhow,  they're  going  the  right  way, 
which  strikes  me  as  something  to  be  thankful  for." 

They  rode  on,  and  it  was  getting  dark  when  they 
checked  the  herd  near  a  straggling  poplar  bluff.  The 
grass  was  good,  the  beasts  began  to  feed  quietly,  and 
after  picketing  their  horses  the  men  lay  down  on  their 
blankets.  It  was  growing  cooler,  a  vivid  band  of 
green  still  flickered  along  the  prairie's  rim,  and  the 
deep  silence  was  intensified  by  the  soft  sound  the  cat- 
tle made  cropping  the  dew-damped  herbage. 

"  I  wonder  if  they  go  to  sleep,"  mused  Edgar.  "  I'm 
beginning  to  think  this  kind  of  thing  must  be  rather 
fine  when  one  gets  used  to  it.  It's  a  glorious 
night." 

By  and  by  he  drew  his  blanket  round  him  and  sank 
into  slumber;  but  for  a  while  George,  who  had  paid 
a  high  price  for  a  Hereford  bull,  lay  awake,  thinking 
and  calculating.  It  would  cost  a  good  deal  more  than 
he  had  anticipated  to  work  the  farm;  Sylvia  had  no 
funds  that  could  be  drawn  upon,  and  his  means  were 
not  large.  Economy  and  good  management  would 
be  needed,  but  he  was  determined  to  make  a  success 
of  his  undertaking.  At  last,  seeing  that  the  herd 
showed  no  signs  of  moving,  he  went  to  sleep. 

Awakening  at  sunrise  George  found  that,  except  for 


74  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

the  horses,  there  was  not  a  beast  in  sight.  For  an 
hour  he 'and  West  hunted  them  through  the  bluff;  and 
then,  after  making  a  hurried  breakfast,  they  went  on 
their  way  again.  It  rapidly  got  hotter,  the  stock  trav- 
eled quietly,  and,  with  a  halt  or  two  where  a  clump 
of  poplars  offered  a  little  shade,  they  rode,  scorched 
by  dazzling  sunshine,  across  the  limitless  plain.  In 
the  afternoon  George  began  to  look  eagerly  for  the 
bluff  that  the  rancher  mentioned.  They  had  found 
no  water,  and  the  cattle  seemed  distressed.  The  glare 
and  heat  were  getting  intolerable,  but  the  vast,  gradual 
rise  in  front  of  them  ran  on,  unbroken,  to  the  sky- 
line. Its  crest,  however,  must  be  crossed  before  even- 
ing; and  they  toiled  on. 

At  last,  the  long  ascent  was  made,  and  George  felt 
relieved  when  he  saw  a  dark  line  of  trees  in  the  wide 
basin  below  him. 

"  That  must  be  the  big  bluff  where  the  well  is ; 
though  I  don't  see  a  house,"  he  said. 

They  had  some  trouble  in  urging  the  herd  down  the 
slope,  but  after  a  while  they  reached  the  welcome 
shadow  of  the  trees,  and  Edgar  broke  into  a  shout 
when  he  saw  a  rude  wooden  platform  with  a  windlass 
upon  it  and  a  trough  near  by. 

"  Ride  ahead  with  the  horses  and  water  them,"  said 
George,  dismounting. 

Edgar  did  as  he  was  bidden,  but  presently  the  herd, 
attracted  by  the  sight  of  water,  came  surging  round 
the  trough,  savagely  jostling  one  another.  The  lad 
worked  hard  with  the  windlass,  but  he  could  not  keep 
them  supplied,  and  they  crowded  on  the  low  platform 
covering  the  well,  with  heads  stretched  out  eagerly 
toward  the  dripping  bucket.  After  being  flung 


A  CATTLE  DRIVE  75 

against  the  windlass  by  a  thirsty  beast,  Edgar  called 
to  his  companion. 

"They'll  break  through  if  you're  not  quick!  It's 
my  opinion  they're  bent  on  getting  down  the  well !  " 

George  came  to  his  assistance  with  his  riding  quirt, 
but  when  they  were  supplying  the  last  two  or  three 
unsatisfied  animals,  a  man  ran  out  of  the  bluff. 

"  What  in  thunder  are  you  doing  with  our  water?  " 
he.  cried. 

"  He  looks  angry,"  Edgar  commented.  "  When 
that  rancher  fellow  told  us  about  the  well,  he  didn't 
mention  the  necessity  of  asking  Mr.  Baxter's  permis- 
sion." Then  he  waved  his  hand  to  the  stranger. 
"  Come  here  and  have  a  talk!  " 

The  man  came  on  at  a  quicker  run.  His  face  was 
hot  with  indignation,  and  on  reaching  them  he  broke 
into  breathless  and  pointed  expostulations. 

"  When  you're  quite  through,  we'll  assess  the  dam- 
ages," George  quietly  told  him. 

The  farmer's  anger  began  to  dissipate. 

"  No,"  he  said ;  "  that  would  be  taking  a  pretty 
mean  pull  on  you;  but  water's  scarce,  and  you  can't 
have  any  more." 

"  Well,"  requested  George,  "  have  you  a  paddock  or 
corral  you  could  let  me  put  this  bunch  of  cattle  into 
until  the  morning?  I'm  willing  to  pay  for  the  accom- 
modation." 

"  I  can't  do  it,"  replied  the  other.  "  I  want  all  the 
fenced  grass  I've  got.  Take  them  right  along,  and 
you'll  strike  a  creek  about  six  miles  ahead.  Then 
you  ought  to  make  the  river  to-morrow  night." 

It  was  obvious  that  he  desired  to  be  rid  of  them; 
and  as  it  was  getting  cooler  George  resumed  his 


76  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

journey.  He  found  the  creek  early  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  as  the  day  promised  to  be  unusually  hot  he 
delayed  only  until  he  had  watered  the  stock.  In  an 
hour  or  two  the  sun  was  hidden  by  banks  of  leaden 
cloud,  but  the  temperature  did  not  fall  and  there  was 
an  oppressive  heaviness  in  the  air.  The  prairie  had 
faded  to  a  sweep  of  lifeless  gray,  obscured  above  its 
verge.  The  men  made  progress,  however;  and  late 
in  the  afternoon  a  winding  line  of  timber  that  marked 
the  river's  course  appeared  ahead.  Shortly  afterward, 
Edgar  looked  around. 

"  That's  a  curious  streak  of  haze  in  the  distance," 
he  remarked. 

"  It's  smoke,"  said  George.  "  Grass  fires  are  not 
uncommon  in  hot  weather.  It  looks  like  a  big  one." 

They  urged  the  cattle  on  a  little  faster,  but  it  was 
evening  when  they  reached  the  first  of  the  trees. 
George  rode  forward  between  them  and  pulled  up  his 
horse  in  some  concern.  The  ford  had  been  difficult 
when  they  crossed  it  on  the  outward  journey,  but  now 
the  space  between  bank  and  bank  was  filled  by  an 
angry  flood.  It  rolled  by  furiously,  lapping  in  frothy 
ripples  upon  the  steep  slope  that  led  down  to  it. 

"  Nearly  an  extra  three  feet  of  water;  there'd  be  a 
risk  in  crossing,"  he  said,  when  Edgar  joined  him. 
"  We  couldn't  make  the  place  where  the  trail  runs  in, 
and  the  landing  down-stream  from  it  looks  bad." 

"  Then  what  ought  we  to  do  ?  "  Edgar  inquired. 

"  Wait  until  to-morrow.  There's  no  doubt  been  a 
heavy  thunderstorm  higher  up,  but  the  water  should 
soon  run  down."  George  glanced  back  toward  the 
prairie  dubiously.  "  I'm  a  little  anxious  about  the 
fire;  but,  after  all,  it  may  not  come  near  us." 


A  CATTLE  DRIVE  77 

The  cattle  did  not  wander  far  after  drinking,  and 
the  men  ate  their  supper.  It  grew  dark,  but  the  heat 
did  not  lessen,  and  the  oppressive  air  was  filled  with  a 
smell  of  burning.  Looking  back  between  the  trees, 
they  could  see  a  long  streak  of  yellow  radiance  leaping 
up,  and  growing  dim  when  the  view  was  obstructed 
by  clouds  of  smoke. 

"  It's  an  awkward  situation,  and,  as  if  it  were  not 
bad  enough,  there's  a  big  thunderstorm  brewing,"  Ed- 
gar said  at  length.  "  I'll  go  along  and  look  at  the 
mark  you  made  upon  the  bank." 

He  strode  away  among  the  trees.  It  was  very  dark. 
The  tethered  horses  were  moving  restlessly;  but,  so 
far  as  Edgar  could  make  out,  the  cattle  were  bunched 
together.  After  lighting  a  match  he  came  back. 

"  The  water's  falling,  but  only  slowly,"  he  reported. 
"  Should  we  try  to  drive  the  stock  along  the  bank?  " 

"  We  couldn't  herd  them  in  the  dark.  Besides,  it's 
an  extensive  fire,  and  I'm  doubtful  whether  we  could 
get  down  to  the  water  farther  along." 

They  waited  for  an  hour,  keeping  the  cattle  to- 
gether with  some  trouble,  and  watching  the  blaze, 
which  grew  brighter  rapidly.  At  last,  wisps  of  pun- 
gent smoke  rolled  into  the  bluff. 

"  The  beasts  are  ready  to  stampede !  "  George  sud- 
denly called  to  Edgar.  "  We'll  have  to  make  a  start ! 
Get  into  the  saddle  and  drive  them  toward  the  ford !  " 

They  were  very  busy  for  a  while.  Their  horses 
were  hard  to  manage,  the  timber  was  thick,  and  the 
herd  attempted  to  break  away  through  it;  but  at  last 
they  reached  the  steep  dip  to  the  waterside.  One 
beast  plunged  in  and  vanished,  more  followed,  and 
George,  plying  his  quirt  and  shouting,  rode  in  among 


78  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

the  diminishing  drove.  He  felt  the  water  lapping 
about  his  boots,  and  then  the  horse  lost  its  footing. 
George  dropped  from  the  saddle  and  seized  a  stirrup. 
For  some  minutes  he  could  see  a  few  dark  objects 
about  him,  but  they  disappeared,  and  he  and  the  horse 
were  swept  away  down-stream. 

He  kept  hold  —  the  animal  was  swimming  strongly 
—  and  after  a  time  a  lurid  flash  of  lightning  showed 
him  a  black  mass  of  trees  close  ahead.  They  van- 
ished, the  succeeding  darkness  was  impenetrable,  and 
the  crash  of  thunder  was  deadened  by  the  roar  of 
water.  For  a  moment  or  two  his  head  was  driven 
under,  but  when  he  got  it  clear,  another  dazzling  flash 
revealed  a  high  bank  only  a  few  yards  away,  and  when 
thick  darkness  followed  he  felt  the  horse  rise  to  its 
feet.  Then  he  touched  soft  bottom,  and  a  little  later 
scrambled  up  an  almost  precipitous  slope  with  the 
bridle  in  his  hand  and  the  horse  floundering  behind 
him.  They  reached  the  summit,  and,  stopping  among 
thin  timber,  it  was  with  strong  relief  that  he  heard 
Edgar's  shout.  Shortly  afterward  the  lad  appeared, 
leading  his  horse. 

"  There's  some  of  the  drove  on  this  side ;  I  don't  see 
the  rest,"  he  said,  glancing  toward  the  opposite  bank, 
where  dark  trees  stood  out  against  a  strong  red  glare. 
"  It  strikes  me  we  only  got  across  in  time." 

Then  torrential  rain  broke  upon  them,  and  while 
they  stood,  unable  to  move  forward,  a  cry  reached 
them  faintly  through  the  roar  of  the  deluge.  It  came 
again  \vhen  George  answered,  and  was  followed  by 
a  crackling  and  snapping  of  underbrush.  Then,  as  a 
blaze  of  lightning  filled  the  bluff  with  radiance,  two 
men  appeared  for  a  moment,  leading  their  horses 


A  CATTLE  DRIVE  79 

among  the  slender  trunks.  They  were  immediately 
lost  to  sight  again,  but  presently  they  came  up,  and 
George  recognized  Grant  by  his  voice. 

"  So  you  have  got  through,  Lansing,"  he  cried.  "  I 
met  Constable  Flett  on  the  trail,  and,  as  he  told  me  the 
river  was  rising  and  there  was  a  big  fire  west,  I  figured 
you  must  be  up  against  trouble." 

He  asked  a  few  questions  and  then  resumed: 

"  As  you  got  the  stock  started,  they'll  have  swum 
across;  but  we  can't  round  them  up  until  it's  light. 
There's  a  deserted  shack  not  far  off,  and  I  guess  we'll 
head  for  it." 

The  constable  agreed;  and,  mounting  when  they 
had  got  out  of  the  timber,  they  rode  off  through  the 
rain. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

CONSTABLE  FLETT's   SUSPICIONS 

IT  was  nearly  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  George 
and  his  companions,  who  had  spent  part  of  the  day 
looking  for  the  straying  stock,  rode  up  to  the  Grant 
homestead  through  a  vast  stretch  of  grain.  This 
grew  on  the  rich  black  soil  they  call  "  gumbo  "  in 
the  West;  but  here  and  there  a  belt  of  dark-colored 
summer  fallow  checkered  the  strong  green  of  the 
wheat  and  oats.  Though  he  clung  to  the  one-crop 
system,  Alan  Grant  was  careful  of  his  land.  The 
fine  brick  house  and  range  of  smart  wooden  buildings, 
the  costly  implements,  which  included  a  gasoline  trac- 
tor-plow, all  indicated  prosperity,  and  George  recog- 
nized that  the  rugged-faced  man  beside  him  had  made 
a  marked  success  of  his  farming. 

When  the  cattle  had  been  secured,  Flora  Grant  wel- 
comed the  new  arrivals  graciously,  and  after  a  while 
they  sat  down  to  supper  with  the  hired  men  in  a  big 
room.  It  was  plainly  furnished,  but  there  was  every- 
thing that  comfort  demanded,  for  the  happy  mean 
between  bareness  and  superfluity  had  been  cleverly 
hit,  and  George  thought  Miss  Grant  was  responsible 
for  this.  He  sat  beside  her  at  the  foot  of  the  long 
table  and  noticed  the  hired  hands'  attitude  toward  her. 
It  was  respectful,  but  not  diffident.  The  girl  had  no 
need  to  assert  herself ;  she  was  on  excellent  terms  with 

80 


CONSTABLE  FLETT'S  SUSPICIONS     81 

the  sturdy  toilers,  who  nevertheless  cheerfully  sub- 
mitted to  her  rule. 

When  the  meal  was  over,  Grant  led  his  guests  into 
a  smaller  room,  and  produced  a  bag  of  domestic  to- 
bacco. 

"  The  stock  have  gone  far  enough,"  he  said. 
"  You'll  stay  here  to-night." 

Flett  looked  doubtful,  though  it  was  obvious  that 
he  wished  to  remain.  He  was  a  young,  brown-faced 
man,  and  his  smart  khaki  uniform  proclaimed  him  a 
trooper  of  the  Northwest  Mounted  Police. 

"  The  trouble  is  that  I'm  a  bit  late  on  my  round  al- 
ready," he  protested. 

"  That's  soon  fixed,"  said  Grant 

He  opened  a  roll-top  desk,  and  wrote  a  note  which 
he  read  out : 

"  '  Constable  Flett  has  been  detained  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  this  homestead  through  having  rendered, 
at  my  request,  valuable  assistance  in  rounding  up  a 
bunch  of  cattle,  scattered  in  crossing  the  flooded 
river.'  " 

"  Thanks,"  said  Flett.  "  That  kind  of  thing  counts 
when  they're  choosing  a  corporal." 

Grant  turned  to  George  with  a  smile. 

"  Keep  in  with  the  police,  Lansing  —  I've  known  a 
good  supper  now  and  then  go  a  long  way.  They  may 
worry  you  about  fireguards  and  fencing,  but  they'll 
stand  by  you  when  you're  in  trouble,  if  you  treat  them 
right.  If  it's  a  matter  of  straying  stock,  a  sick  horse, 
or  you  don't  know  how  to  roof  a  new  barn,  you  have 
only  to  send  for  the  nearest  trooper." 

"  Aren't  these  things  a  little  outside  their  duties?  " 
Edgar  asked. 


82  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

The  constable  grinned. 

"  Most  anything  that  wants  doing  badly  is  right  in 
our  line." 

"  Sure,"  said  Grant.  "  It's  not  long  since  Flett  went 
two  hundred  miles  over  the  snow  with  a  dog-team  to 
settle  a  little  difference  between  an  Indian  and  his 
wife.  Then  he  once  brought  a  hurt  trapper  a  fort- 
night's journey  on  his  sledge,  sleeping  in  the  snow,  in 
the  bitterest  weather.  They  were  quite  alone,  and  the 
hurt  man  was  crazy  most  of  the  time." 

"  Then  you're  supposed  to  look  after  the  settlers,  as 
well  as  to  keep  order?  "  suggested  Edgar,  looking  ad- 
miringly at  the  sturdy  young  constable. 

"  That's  so,"  replied  Flett.  "  They  certainly  need 
it.  Last  winter  we  struck  one  crowd  in  a  lonely  shack 
up  north  —  man,  woman,  and  several  children  huddle^ 
on  the  floor,  with  nothing  to  eat,  and  the  stove  out  — 
at  forty  degrees  below.  There  was  a  bluff  a  few  miles 
off,  but  they  hadn't  a  tool  of  any  kind  to  cut  cord- 
wood  with.  Took  us  quite  a  while  to  haul  them  up 
some  stores,  though  we  made  twelve-hour  marches 
between  our  camps  in  the  snow.  We  had  to  hustle 
that  trip." 

He  paused  and  resumed : 

"  Better  keep  an  eye  on  that  bunch  of  young  horses, 
Mr.  Grant;  bring  them  up  nearer  the  house  when  the 
nights  get  darker.  Those  Clydesdales  are  mighty  fine 
beasts  and  prices  are  high." 

Grant  looked  astonished. 

"  I've  been  here  a  good  many  years,  and  I've  never 
lost  a  horse,"  he  declared. 

"  It  doesn't  follow  you'll  always  be  as  lucky,"  the 
trooper  said  pointedly. 


83 

"  I  was  told  that  property  is  as  safe  in  the  West  as 
it  is  in  England,"  Edgar  broke  in. 

"  Just  so,"  remarked  the  trooper.  "  They  say  that 
kind  of  thing.  I  never  was  in  the  old  country,  but 
young  mavericks  aren't  the  only  stock  to  go  missing 
in  Alberta,  which  isn't  a  long  way  off.  The  boys 
there  have  their  hands  full  now  and  then,  and  we  have 
three  or  four  of  the  worst  toughs  I've  struck  right  in 
Sage  Butte." 

Grant  leaned  forward  on  the  table,  looking  steadily 
at  him. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  tell  me  what  you  have  in  your 
mind?" 

"  I  can't  give  you  much  information,  but  we  got  a 
hint  from  Regina  to  keep  our  eyes  open,  and  from 
things  I've  heard  it's  my  idea  that  now  that  the  boys 
have  nearly  stopped  the  running  of  Alberta  cattle 
across  the  frontier,  some  of  the  toughs  they  couldn't 
track  mean  to  start  the  same  game  farther  east.  Some 
of  you  ranchers  run  stock  outside  the  fences,  and  I 
guess  one  could  still  find  a  lonely  trail  to  the  American 
border." 

"  Well,"  said  Grant,  "  I'm  glad  you  told  me."  He 
turned  to  George.  "  Be  careful,  Lansing;  you  would 
be  an  easier  mark." 

They  strolled  outside;  and  after  a  while  George 
joined  Flora,  and  sauntered  away  across  the  grass  with 
her.  It  was  a  clear,  still  evening,  and  the  air  was 
wonderfully  fresh. 

"  Though  he  wouldn't  let  me  thank  him,  I  feel  I'm 
seriously  indebted  to  your  father,  Miss  Grant,"  he 
said.  "  Our  horses  were  worn  out,  and  the  stock 
had  all  scattered  when  he  turned  up  with  the  trooper." 


84  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  believe  he  enjoyed  the  ride,  and  the  night  in  the 
rain,"  replied  Flora.  "  You  see,  he  had  once  to  work 
very  hard  here,  and  now  that  things  have  changed, 
he  finds  it  rather  tame.  He  likes  to  feel  he's  still 
capable  of  a  little  exertion." 

"  I  shouldn't  consider  him  an  idle  man." 

Flora  laughed. 

"  That  would  be  very  wrong;  but  the  need  for  con- 
tinual effort  and  the  strain  of  making  ends  meet,  with 
the  chance  of  being  ruined  by  a  frozen  crop,  have 
passed.  I  believe  he  misses  the  excitement  of  it." 

"  Then  I  gather  that  he  built  up  this  great  farm  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  from  a  free  quarter-section.  He  and  my 
mother  started  in  a  two-roomed  shack.  They  were 
both  from  Ontario,  but  she  died  several  years  ago." 
The  girl  paused.  "  Sometimes  I  think  she  must  have 
had  remarkable  courage.  I  can  remember  her  as  al- 
ways ready  in  an  emergency,  always  tranquil." 

George  glanced  at  her  as  she  stood,  finely  posed, 
looking  out  across  the  waste  of  grass  with  gravely 
steady  eyes,  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  she  resembled 
her  mother  in  the  respects  she  had  mentioned.  Never- 
theless, he  felt  inclined  to  wonder  how  she  had  got 
her  grace  and  refinement.  Alan  Grant  was  forceful 
and  rather  primitive. 

"  Have  you  spent  much  of  your  time  here  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  No,"  she  answered.  "  My  mother  was  once  a 
school-teacher,  and  she  must  have  had  ambitious  views 
for  me.  When  the  farm  began  to  prosper,  I  was  sent 
to  Toronto.  After  that  I  went  to  Montreal,  and 
finally  to  England." 

"  You  must  be  fond  of  traveling." 


CONSTABLE  FLETT'S  SUSPICIONS     85 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  with  some  reserve,  "  I  had  thought 
of  taking  up  a  profession." 

"  And  you  have  abandoned  the  idea  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  quietly,  wondering  whether  she 
should  answer. 

"  I  had  no  alternative,"  she  said.  "  I  began  to  real- 
ize it  after  my  mother's  death.  Then  my  father  was 
badly  hurt  in  an  accident  with  a  team,  and  I  came 
back.  He  has  nobody  else  to  look  after  him,  and  he 
is  getting  on  in  life." 

Her  words  conveyed  no  hint  of  the  stern  struggle 
between  duty  and  inclination,  but  George  guessed  it. 
This  girl,  he  thought,  was  one  not  to  give  up  lightly 
the  career  she  had  chosen. 

Then  she  changed  the  subject  with  a  smile. 

"  I  suspect  that  my  father  approves  of  you,  per- 
haps because  of  what  you  are  doing  with  the  land. 
I  think  I  may  say  that  if  you  have  any  little  difficulty, 
or  are  short  of  any  implements  that  would  be  useful, 
you  need  only  come  across  to  us." 

"  Thank  you,"  George  responded  quietly. 

"  Mr.  West  mentioned  that  you  were  on  a  farm 
in  this  country  once  before.  Why  did  you  give  it 
up?" 

"  Somebody  left  me  a  little  money." 

'Then  what  brought  you  back?" 

She  was  rather  direct,  but  that  is  not  unusual  in  the 
West,  and  George  was  mildly  flattered  by  the  interest 
she  displayed. 

"  It's  a  little  difficult  to  answer.  For  one  thing,  I 
was  beginning  to  feel  that  I  was  taking  life  too  easily 
in  England.  It's  a  habit  that  grows  on  one." 

He  had  no  desire  to  conceal  the  fact  that  he  had 


86  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

come  out  on  Sylvia's  behalf  —  it  never  occurred  to 
him  to  mention  it.  He  was  trying  to  analyze  the  feel- 
ings which  had  rendered  the  sacrifice  he  made  in  leav- 
ing home  a  little  easier. 

"  I  don't  think  the  dread  of  acquiring  that  habit  is 
common  among  your  people,"  Flora  said  mischie- 
vously. "  It  doesn't  sound  like  a  very  convincing 
reason." 

"  No,"  replied  George,  with  a  smile.  "  Still,  it  had 
some  weight.  You  see,  it  isn't  difficult  to  get  lazy  and 
slack,  and  I'd  done  nothing  except  a  little  fishing  and 
shooting  for  several  years.  I  didn't  want  to  sink  into 
a  mere  lounger  about  country  houses  and  clubs.  It's 
pleasant,  but  too  much  of  it  is  apt  to  unfit  one  for  any- 
thing else." 

"  You  believe  it's  safer,  for  example,  to  haul  stove- 
wood  home  through  the  Canadian  frost  or  drive  a 
plow  under  the  scorching  sun  ?  " 

"  Yes;  I  think  I  feel  something  of  the  kind." 

Flora  somewhat  astonished  him  by  her  scornful 
laugh. 

"  You're  wise,"  she  said.  "  We  have  had  sports- 
men here  from  your  country,  and"  I've  a  vivid  memory 
of  one  or  two.  One  could  see  by  their  coarse  faces 
that  they  ate  and  drank  too  much;  and  they  seemed 
determined  to  avoid  discomfort  at  any  cost.  I  sup- 
pose they  could  shoot,  but  they  could  neither  strip  a 
gun  nor  carry  it  on  a  long  day's  march.  The  last 
party  thought  it  needful  to  take  a  teamload  of  supplies 
when  they  went  north  after  moose.  It  would  have 
been  a  catastrophe  if  they  had  missed  their  dinner." 

"  Going  without  one's  dinner  has  its  inconveniences," 
said  George. 


CONSTABLE  FLETT'S  SUSPICIONS     87 

"  And  thinking  too  much  about  it  has  its  perils," 
she  retorted. 

George  nodded.  He  thought  he  knew  what  she 
meant,  and  he  agreed  with  it.  He  could  recall  com- 
panions who,  living  for  pleasure,  had  by  degrees  lost 
all  zest  for  the  more  or  less  wholesome  amusements 
to  which  they  had  confined  their  efforts.  Some  had 
become  mere  club  loungers  and  tattlers;  one  or  two 
had  sunk  into  gross  indulgence.  This  had  had  its  ef- 
fect on  him :  he  did  not  wish  to  grow  red- faced,  sloth- 
ful, and  fleshy,  as  they  had  done,  nor  to  busy  himself 
with  trivialities  until  such  capacities  for  useful  work 
as  he  possessed  had  atrophied. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  nobody  could  call  this  a  good 
country  for  the  pampered  loafer." 

Flora  smiled,  and  pointed  out  across  the  prairie. 
In  the  foreground  it  was  flecked  with  crimson  flowers ; 
farther  back  willow  and  poplar  bluffs  stretched  in 
bluish  smears  across  the  sweep  of  grass  that  ran  on 
beyond  them  toward  the  vivid  glow  of  color  on  the 
skyline.  It  was  almost  beautiful  in  the  soft  evening 
light,  but  it  conveyed  most  clearly  a  sense  of  vastness 
and  solitude.  The  effect  was  somehow  daunting. 
One  thought  of  the  Arctic  winter  and  the  savage 
storms  that  swept  the  wilds. 

"  I've  heard  it  called  hard,"  she  said.  "  It  un- 
doubtedly needs  hard  men ;  there  is  nothing  here  that 
can  be  easily  won.  That's  a  fact  that  the  people 
you're  sending  over  ought  to  recognize." 

'  They  soon  discover  it  when  they  get  out.  When 
they've  had  a  crop  hailed  or  frozen,  the  thing  becomes 
obvious." 

"  Did  you  lose  one?  " 


88  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  did,"  George  rejoined  rather  gloomily.  "  I've  a 
suspicion  that  if  we  get  much  dry  weather  and  the 
usual  strong  winds,  I  may  lose  another.  The  wheat's 
getting  badly  cut  by  driving  sand;  that's  a  trouble  we 
don't  have  to  put  up  with  in  the  old  country." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  Flora, ;  and  he  knew  she  meant  it. 
"  But  you  won't  be  beaten  by  one  bad  season?  " 

"  No,"  George  answered  with  quiet  determination. 
"  I  must  make  a  success  of  this  venture,  whatever  it 
costs." 

She  was  a  little  puzzled  by  his  manner,  for  she  did 
not  think  he  was  addicted  to  being  needlessly  em- 
phatic; but  she  asked  no  questions,  and  soon  after- 
ward the  others  joined  them  and  they  went  back  to 
the  house.  Early  on  the  following  morning,  George 
started  homeward  with  his  cattle,  and  as  they  rode 
slowly  through  the  barley-grass  that  fringed  the  trail, 
Edgar  looked  at  him  with  a  smile. 

"  You  spent  some  time  in  Miss  Grant's  company," 
he  remarked.  "  How  did  she  strike  you  ?  " 

"  I  like  her.  She's  interesting  —  I  think  that's  the 
right  word  for  it.  Seems  to  understand  things;  talks 
to  you  like  a  man." 

"  Just  so,"  Edgar  rejoined,  with  a  laugh.  "  She's  a 
lady  I've  a  high  opinion  of;  in  fact,  I'm  a  little  afraid 
of  her.  Though  I'm  nearly  as  old  as  she  is,  she  makes 
me  feel  callow.  It's  a  sensation  that's  new  to  me." 

"  And  you're  a  man  of  experience,  aren't  you?  " 

"  I  suppose  I  was  rather  a  favorite  at  home,"  Edgar 
owned  with  humorous  modesty.  "  For  all  that,  I 
don't  feel  myself  quite  up  to  Miss  Grant's  standard." 

"  I  didn't  notice  any  assumption  of  superiority  on 
her  part." 


CONSTABLE  FLETT'S  SUSPICIONS     89 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Edgar.  "  She  doesn't  require  to  as- 
sume it ;  the  superiority's  obvious ;  that's  the  trouble. 
One  hesitates  about  offering  her  the  small  change  of 
compliments  that  generally  went  well  at  home.  If 
you  try  to  say  something  smart,  she  looks  at  you  as  if 
she  were  amused,  not  at  what  you  said,  but  at  you. 
There's  an  embarrassing  difference  between  the 
things." 

"  The  remedy's  simple.     Don't  try  to  be  smart." 

"  You  would  find  that  easy,"  Edgar  retorted. 
"  Now,  in  my  opinion,  Miss  Grant  is  intellectual, 
which  is  more  than  anybody  ever  accused  you  of  be- 
ing, but  I  suspect  you  would  make  more  progress  with 
her  than  I  could  do.  Extremes  have  a  way  of  meet- 
ing, and  perhaps  it  isn't  really  curious  that  your  direct 
and  simple  views  should  nov,-  and  then  recommend 
you  to  a  more  complex  person." 

"  I  notice  a  couple  of  beasts  straying  yonder," 
George  said  dryly. 

Edgar  rode  off  to  drive  the  animals  up  to  the  herd. 
George,  he  thought,  was  painfully  practical ;  only  such 
a  man  could  break  off  the  discussion  of  a  girl  like  Miss 
Grant  to  interest  himself  in  the  movements  of  a  wan- 
dering steer.  For  all  that,  the  beasts  must  be  turned, 
and  they  gave  Edgar  a  hard  gallop  through  willow 
scrub  and  tall  grass  before  he  could  head  them  off  and 
afterward  overtake  the  drove. 


CHAPTER  IX 

GEORGE  TURNS   REFORMER 

GEORGE  was  working  in  the  summer  fallow  a 
few  days  after  his  return  from  Grant's  home- 
stead, when  a  man  rode  across  the  plowing  and  pulled 
up  his  horse  beside  him.  He  was  on  the  whole  a 
handsome  fellow,  well  mounted  and  smartly  dressed, 
but  there  was  a  hint  of  hardness  in  his  expression. 
George  recognized  him  as  the  landlord  of  a  hotel  at  the 
settlement. 

"  Your  crop's  not  looking  too  good,"  the  stranger 
greeted  him. 

"  No,"  returned  George.  "  It  was  badly  put  in, 
ajid  we've  had  unusually  dry  weather." 

"  I  forgot,"  the  other  rejoined.  "  You're  the  fel- 
low Jake  Gillet  had  the  trouble  with.  Beat  him  down 
on  the  price,  didn't  you?  He's  a  bad  man  to  bluff." 

"  The  point  that  concerned  me  was  that  he  asked  a 
good  deal  more  than  his  work  was  worth." 

The  man  looked  at  George  curiously. 

"  That's  quite  possible,  but  you  might  have  let  him 
down  more  gently  than  you  did.  As  a  newcomer,  you 
don't  want  to  kick  too  much  or  run  up  against  things 
other  folks  put  up  with." 

George  wondered  where  the  hint  he  had  been  given 
led. 

90 


GEORGE  TURNS  REFORMER    91 

"  I  rode  over  to  bring  this  paper  for  you  to  sign," 
the  man  went  on. 

Glancing  through  it,  George  saw  that  it  was  a  peti- 
tion against  any  curtailment  of  the  licenses  at  Sage 
Butte,  and  a  testimonial  to  the  excellent  manner  in 
which  the  Sachem  Hotel  was  conducted  by  its  owner, 
Oliver  Beamish.  George  had  only  once  entered  the 
place,  but  it  had  struck  him  as  being  badly  kept  and 
frequented  by  rather  undesirable  customers. 

"  Some  fool  temperance  folks  are  starting  a  cam- 
paign—  want  to  shut  the  hotels,"  his  visitor  explained. 
"  You'll  put  your  name  to  this." 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  excuse  me,  Mr.  Beamish. 
I  can't  form  an  opinion;  I  haven't  heard  the  other 
side  yet." 

"  Do  you  want  to  hear  them  ?  Do  you  like  that 
kind  of  talk?" 

George  smiled,  though  he  was  not  favorably  im- 
pressed by  the  man.  His  tone  was  too  dictatorial; 
George  expected  civility  when  asked  a  favor. 

"  After  all,"  he  said,  "  it  would  only  be  fair." 

"  Then  you  won't  sign  ?  " 

"  No." 

Beamish  sat  silent  a  moment  or  two,  regarding 
George  steadily. 

"  One  name  more  or  less  doesn't  matter  much,  but 
I'll  own  that  the  opinion  of  you  farmers  who  use  my 
hotel  as  a  stopping-place  counts  with  the  authorities," 
he  told  him.  "  I've  got  quite  a  few  signatures.  You 
want  to  remember  that  it  won't  pay  you  to  go  against 
the  general  wish." 

There  was  a  threat  in  his  manner,  and  George's 
face  hardened. 


92  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  That  consideration  hasn't  much  weight  with  me," 
he  said. 

"  Well,"  returned  Beamish,  "  I  guess  you're  wrong; 
but  as  there's  nothing  doing  here,  I'll  get  on." 

He  rode  away,  and  George  thought  no  more  of  the 
matter  for  several  days.  Then  as  he  was  riding  home 
with  Edgar  from  a  visit  to  a  neighbor  who  had  a  team 
to  sell,  they  stopped  to  rest  a  few  minutes  in  the  shade 
of  a  poplar  bluff.  It  was  fiercely  hot  on  the  prairie, 
but  the  wood  was  dim  and  cool,  and  George  followed 
Edgar  through  it  in  search  of  saskatoons.  The  red 
berries  were  plentiful,  and  they  had  gone  farther  than 
they  intended  when  George  stopped  waist-deep  in  the 
grass  of  a  dry  sloo,  where  shallow  water  had  lain  in 
the  spring.  He  nearly  fell  over  something  large  and 
hard.  Stooping  down,  he  saw  with  some  surprise  that 
it  was  a  wooden  case. 

"  I  wonder  what's  in  it  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Bottles,"  reported  Edgar,  pulling  up  a  board  of 
the  lid.  "  One  of  the  cure-everything  tonics,  accord- 
ing to  the  labels.  It  strikes  me  as  a  curious  place  to 
leave  it  in." 

George  carefully  looked  about.  He  could  distin- 
guish a  faint  track,  where  the  grasses  had  been  dis- 
turbed, running  straight  across  the  sloo  past  the  spot 
he  occupied;  but  he  thought  that  the  person  who  had 
made  the  track  had  endeavored  to  leave  as  little  mark 
as  possible.  Then  he  glanced  out  between  the  poplar 
trunks  across  the  sunlit  prairie.  There  was  not  a 
house  on  it ;  scarcely  a  clump  of  timber  broke  its  even 
surface.  The  bluff  was  very  lonely;  and  George  re- 
membered that  a  trail  which  ran  near  by  led  to  an 


GEORGE  TURNS  REFORMER    93 

Indian  reservation  some  distance  to  the  north.  While 
he  considered,  Edgar  broke  in : 

"  As  neither  of  us  requires  a  pick-me-up,  it  might 
be  better  to  leave  the  thing  where  it  is." 

'  That,"  replied  George,  "  is  my  own  idea." 

Edgar  looked  thoughtful. 

'  The  case  didn't  come  here  by  accident ;  and  one 
wouldn't  imagine  that  tonics  are  in  great  demand  in 
this  locality.  I  have,  however,  heard  the  liquor  laws 
denounced;  and  as  a  rule  it's  wise  to  leave  matters 
that  don't  concern  you  severely  alone." 

"  Just  so,"  said  George.  "  We'll  get  on  again,  if 
you  have  had  enough  berries." 

On  reaching  the  homestead,  they  found  a  note  from 
Miss  Grant  inviting  them  to  come  over  in  the  evening ; 
and  both  were  glad  to  comply  with  it.  When  they 
arrived,  the  girl  led  them  into  a  room  where  a  lady  of 
middle-age  and  a  young  man  in  clerical  attire  were 
sitting  with  her  father. 

"  Mrs.  Nelson  has  come  over  from  Sage  Butte  on 
a  mission,"  she  said,  when  she  presented  them.  "  Mr. 
Hardie,  who  is  the  Methodist  minister  there,  is  anx- 
ious to  meet  you." 

The  lady  was  short  and  slight  in  figure  but  was 
marked  by  a  most  resolute  expression. 

"  The  mission  is  Mr.  Hardie's,"  she  said.  "  I'm 
merely  his  assistant.  I  suppose  you're  a  temperance 
reformer,  Mr.  Lansing?" 

"  No,"  George  answered  meekly ;  "  I  can't  say  I 
am." 

'  Then  you'll  have  to  become  one.  How  long  is  it 
since  you  indulged  in  drink  ?  " 


94  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

George  felt  a  little  embarrassed,  but  Edgar,  see- 
ing Flora's  smile  and  the  twinkle  in  her  father's  eyes, 
hastily  came  to  his  rescue. 

"  Nearly  a  month,  to  my  knowledge.  That  is,  if 
you  don't  object  to  strong  green  tea,  consumed  in  large 
quantities." 

"  One  should  practise  moderation  in  everything. 
Everything!" 

"  It  has  struck  me,"  said  Edgar  thoughtfully,  "  that 
moderation  is  now  and  then  desirable  in  temperance 
reform." 

Mrs.  Nelson  fixed  her  eyes  on  him  \vith  a  severe 
expression. 

"  Are  you  a  scoffer  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Edgar ;  "  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I'm  open 
to  conviction,  especially  if  you  intend  to  reform  the 
Butte.  In  my  opinion,  it  needs  it." 

"  Well,"  responded  the  lady,  "  you're  a  signature, 
anyway;  and  we  want  as  many  as  we  can  get.  But 
we'll  proceed  to  business.  Will  you  state  our  views, 
Mr.  Hardie?" 

The  man  began  quietly,  and  George  was  favorably 
impressed  by  him.  He  had  a  pleasant,  sun-burned 
face,  and  a  well-knit  but  rather  thin  figure,  which  sug- 
gested that  he  was  accustomed  to  physical  exertion. 
As  he  could  not  afford  a  horse,  he  made  long  rounds 
on  foot  to  visit  his  scattered  congregation,  under 
scorching  sun  and  in  the  stinging  frost. 

"  There  are  four  churches  in  Sage  Butte,  but  I  some- 
times fear  that  most  of  the  good  they  do  is  undone  in 
the  pool  room  and  the  saloons,"  he  said.  "Of  the 
latter,  one  cannot,  perhaps,  strongly  object  to  the 
Queen's." 


GEORGE  TURNS  REFORMER    95 

"  One  should  always  object  to  a  saloon,"  Mrs. 
Nelson  corrected  him. 

Hardie  smiled  good-humoredly. 

"  After  all,  the  other's  the  more  pressing  evil. 
There's  no  doubt  about  the  unfortunate  influence  of 
the  Sachem." 

"  That's  so,"  Grant  agreed.  "  When  I  first  came 
out  from  Ontario,  there  wasn't  a  loafer  in  the  town. 
When  the  boys  were  through  with  their  day's  job, 
they  had  a  quiet  talk  and  smoke  and  went  to  bed ;  they 
came  here  to  work.  Now  the  Sachem  bar's  full  of 
slouchers  every  night,  and  quite  a  few  of  them  don't 
do  anything  worth  speaking  of  in  the  daytime,  except 
make  trouble  for  decent  folks.  If  the  boys  try  to  put 
the  screw  on  a  farmer  at  harvest  or  when  he  has  extra 
wheat  to  haul,  you'll  find  they  hatched  the  mischief  at 
Beamish's  saloon.  But  I've  no  use  for  giving  those 
fellows  tracts  with  warning  pictures." 

"  That,"  said  Mrs.  Nelson,  "  is  by  no  means  what 
we  intend  to  do." 

"  I'm  afraid  that  admonition  hasn't  had  much  ef- 
fect, and  I  agree  with  Mr.  Grant  that  the  Sachem  is 
a  gathering  place  for  doubtful  characters,"  Hardie 
went  on.  "  What's  worse,  I've  reasons  for  supposing 
that  Beamish  gets  some  of  them  to  help  him  in  sup- 
plying the  Indians  on  the  reservation  with  liquor." 

This  was  a  serious  offense,  and  there  was  a  pause, 
during  which  Edgar  glanced  meaningly  at  George. 
Then  he  made  a  pertinent  remark. 

"  Four  churches  to  two  saloons  is  pretty  long  odds. 
Why  do  you  think  it  needful  to  call  in  the  farmers?  " 

Hardie  looked  troubled,  but  he  showed  that  he  was 
honest. 


96  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  The  churches  are  thinly  attended ;  I'm  the  only 
resident  clergyman,  and  I'm  sorry  I  must  confess  that 
some  of  our  people  are  indifferent:  reluctant,  or  per- 
haps half  afraid,  to  interfere.  They  want  a  clear 
lead ;  if  we  could  get  a  big  determined  meeting  it  might 
decide  the  waverers." 

"  Then  you're  not  sure  of  winning?  "  asked  Grant. 

"  No,"  replied  Hardie.  "  There'll  be  strong  and 
well-managed  opposition;  in  fact,  we  have  nearly  ev- 
erything against  us.  I've  been  urged  to  wait,  but  the 
evil's  increasing;  those  against  us  are  growing 
stronger." 

"If  you  lose,  you  and  your  friends  will  find  the 
Butte  pretty  hot.  But  you  feel  you  have  a  chance,  a 
fighting  chance,  and  you  mean  to  take  it?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I'm  with  you,"  Grant  declared  with  a  grim 
smile.  "  Don't  mistake  me :  I  take  my  glass  of  lager 
when  I  feel  like  it  —  there's  some  right  here  in  the 
house  —  but,  if  it's  needful,  I  can  do  without.  I'm 
not  going  into  this  thing  to  help  you  in  preaching  to 
whisky-tanks  and  toughs  —  it's  the  law  I'm  standing 
for.  If  what  you  suspect  is  going  on,  we'll  soon  have 
our  colts  rebranded  and  our  calves  missing.  We  have 
got  to  clean  out  Beamish's  crowd." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Hardie,  with  keen  satisfaction. 

He  turned  to  George. 

"  I'd  be  glad  of  your  support,  Mr.  Lansing." 

George  sat  silent  a  moment  or  two  while  Flora 
watched  him.  Then  he  said  quietly: 

"  My  position's  much  the  same  as  Mr.  Grant's  —  I 
can  do  without.  After  what  you  have  said  about  the 
Sachem,  I'll  join  you." 


GEORGE  TURNS  REFORMER    97 

"And  you?"  Hardie  asked  Edgar. 

The  lad  laughed. 

"  I  follow  my  leader.  The  loungers  about  the 
Sachem  weren't  civil  to  me;  said  unpleasant  things 
about  my  appearance  and  my  English  clothes.  To 
help  to  make  them  abstainers  strikes  me  as  a  happy 
thought." 

Flora  glanced  at  him  in  amused  reproof,  and  Hardie 
turned  to  Grant. 

"  What  about  your  hired  men  ?  " 

"  Count  them  in ;  they  go  with  me.  If  you  have 
brought  any  memorial  along,  I'll  see  they  sign  it." 

"  I  wish  all  our  supporters  had  your  determination," 
Mrs.  Nelson  remarked  approvingly. 

Hardie  ventured  a  protest. 

"  I  don't  want  any  pressure  put  upon  them,  Mr. 
Grant." 

"Pressure?"  queried  the  farmer.  "I'll  just  ask 
them  to  sign." 

"  I  wonder  if  you're  quite  satisfied  with  the  purity 
of  all  your  allies'  motives,  Mr.  Hardie?"  Edgar 
inquired. 

A  smile  crept  into  the  clergyman's  face. 

"  I  don't  think  a  leader's  often  in  that  position,  Mr. 
West;  and  considering  what  I'm  up  against,  I  can't 
refuse  any  support  that's  offered  me.  It's  one  reason 
why  I've  taken  yours." 

"  Now  that  I've  joined  you,  I'd  better  mention  a  lit- 
tle discovery  West  and  I  made  this  afternoon,"  said 
George. 

Hardie's  expression  grew  eager  as  he  listened. 

"  It's  certainly  liquor  —  for  the  reservation  In- 
dians," he  broke  out.  "If  we  can  fix  the  thing  on 


98  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Beamish  —  I  haven't  a  doubt  that  he's  responsible  — 
we  can  close  the  Sachem.  " 

"  Then  we  had  better  decide  how  it's  to  be  done," 
Grant  said  curtly. 

He  ruled  out  several  suggestions,  and  finally  said : 

"  I  expect  the  case  will  be  sent  for  to-night,  and  we 
want  two  witnesses  who'll  lie  by  in  the  sloo.  One 
of  them  ought  to  be  a  farmer ;  but  we'll  see  about  that. 
Guess  your  part  is  to  find  out  how  the  liquor  left  the 
Butte,  Mr.  Hardie.  What  do  you  think  of  the  plan, 
ma'am?  " 

"  I  leave  it  to  you,"  said  Mrs.  Nelson,  half  re- 
luctantly. "  But  be  warned  —  if  the  men  can't  close 
the  Sachem,  the  women  of  Sage  Butte  will  undertake 
the  thing." 

"  Then  we  have  only  to  decide  who  is  to  watch  the 
bluff,"  said  Hardie. 

"  As  I  first  mentioned  the  matter,  I'll  go,  for  one," 
George  volunteered. 

"  You're  the  right  man,"  declared  Grant.  "  As  a 
newcomer  who's  never  been  mixed  up  with  local  af- 
fairs, your  word  would  carry  more  weight  with  the 
court.  The  opposition  couldn't  make  you  out  a  par- 
tizan.  But  you  want  to  recognize  what  you're  doing 
—  after  this,  you'll  find  yourself  up  against  all  the 
Sachem  toughs.  It's  quite  likely  they'll  make  trouble 
for  you." 

"  I  wonder  whether  such  reasons  count  for  much 
with  Mr.  Lansing?  "  Flora  said  suggestively. 

George  made  no  reply,  but  Edgar  laughed. 

"  They  don't,  Miss  Grant ;  you  can  set  your  mind 
at  rest  on  that.  You  don't  seem  curious  whether  they 
count  with  me." 


GEORGE  TURNS  REFORMER    99 

"  You're  not  going,"  Grant  told  him.  "  We  must 
have  two  men  who  can  be  relied  on,  and  I  can  put 
my  hand  on  another  who's  younger  and  a  little  more 
wiry  than  I  am."  He  turned  to  George.  "  What 
you  have  to  do  is  to  lie  close  in  the  sloo  grass  until  the 
fellows  come  for  the  liquor,  when  you'll  follow  them 
to  the  reservation,  without  their  seeing  you.  Then 
you'll  ride  up  and  make  sure  you  would  know  them 
again.  They  should  get  there  soon  after  daylight,  as 
they  won't  strike  the  bluff  until  it's  dark,  but  there's 
thick  brush  in  the  ravine  the  trail  follows  for  the  last 
few  miles.  It  won't  matter  if  they  light  out,  because 
Flett  will  pick  up  their  trail.  I'll  send  for  him  right 
off,  but  he  could  hardly  get  through  before  morning." 

The  party  broke  up  shortly  afterward,  and  George 
rode  home,  wondering  why  he  had  allowed  himself  to 
become  involved  in  what  might  prove  to  be  a  trouble- 
some matter.  His  ideas  on  the  subject  were  not  very 
clear,  but  he  felt  that  Flora  Grant  had  expected  him  to 
take  a  part.  Then  he  had  been  impressed  in  Hardie's 
favor ;  the  man  was  in  earnest,  ready  to  court  popular 
hostility,  but  he  was  nevertheless  genial  and  free  from 
dogmatic  narrow-mindedness.  Behind  all  this,  there 
was  in  George  a  detestation  of  vicious  idleness  and 
indulgence,  and  a  respect  for  right  and  order.  Since 
he  had  been  warned  that  the  badly-kept  hotel  sheltered 
a  gang  of  loafers  plotting  mischief  and  willing  to  prey 
upon  men  who  toiled  strenuously,  he  was  ready  for  an 
attempt  to  turn  them  out.  He  agreed  with  Grant :  the 
gang  must  be  put  down. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    LIQUOR-RUNNERS 

T"\USK  was  closing  in  when  George  and  the  hired 
-*-^  man  whom  Grant  had  sent  with  him  reached 
the  bluff  and  tethered  their  horses  where  they  would 
be  hidden  among  the  trees.  This  done,  George  stood 
still  for  a  few  moments,  looking  about.  A  dark, 
cloud-barred  sky  hung  over  the  prairie,  which  was 
fast  fading  into  dimness;  the  wood  looked  desolate 
and  forbidding  in  the  dying  light.  He  did  not  think 
any  one  could  have  seen  him  and  his  companion  enter 
it.  Then  he  and  the  man  floundered  through  the 
undergrowth  until  they  reached  the  sloo,  where  they 
hid  themselves  among  the  grass  at  some  distance  from 
the  case,  which  had  not  been  removed. 

There  was  no  moon,  and  a  fresh  breeze  swept 
through  the  wood,  waking  eerie  sounds  and  sharp 
rustlings  among  the  trees.  Once  or  twice  George 
started,  imagining  that  somebody  was  creeping 
through  the  bushes  behind  him,  but  he  was  glad  of 
the  confused  sounds,  because  they  would  cover  his 
movements  when  the  time  for  action  came.  His  com- 
panion, a  teamster  born  on  the  prairie,  lay  beside  him 
amid  the  tall  harsh  grass  that  swayed  to  and  fro  with 
a  curious  dry  clashing.  He  broke  into  a  soft  laugh 
when  George  suddenly  raised  his  head. 

"  Only  a  cottontail  hustling  through  the  brush. 
IOO 


THE  LIQUOR-RUNNERS  101 

Whoever's  coming  will  strike  the  bluff  on  the  other 
side,"  he  said.  "  Night's  kind  of  wild ;  pity  it  won't 
rain.  Crops  on  light  soil  are  getting  badly  cut." 

George  glanced  up  at  the  patch  of  sky  above  the 
dark  mass  of  trees.  Black  and  threatening  clouds 
drove  across  it ;  but  during  the  past  few  weeks  he  had 
watched  them  roll  up  from  the  west  a  little  after  noon 
almost  every  day.  For  a  while,  they  shadowed  the 
prairie,  promising  the  deluge  he  eagerly  longed  for; 
and  then,  toward  evening,  they  cleared  away,  and 
pitiless  sunshine  once  more  scorched  the  plain.  Grain 
grown  upon  the  stiff  black  loam  withstood  the  drought, 
but  the  light  soil  of  the  Marston  farm  was  lifted  by 
the  wind,  and  the  sharp  sand  in  it  abraded  the  tender 
stalks.  It  might  cut  them  through  if  the  dry  weather 
and  strong  breeze  continued ;  and  then  the  crop  which 
was  to  cover  his  first  expenses  would  yield  him  noth- 
ing. 

"  Yes,"  he  returned  moodily.  "  It  looks  as  if  it 
couldn't  rain.  We  ought  to  go  in  more  for  stock- 
raising;  it's  safer." 

"  Costs  quite  a  pile  to  start  with,  and  the  ranchers 
farther  west  certainly  have  their  troubles.  We  had  a 
good  many  calves  missing,  and  now  and  then  prime 
steers  driven  off,  when  I  was  range-riding." 

"  I  haven't  heard  of  any  cattle-stealing  about  here." 

"  No,"  said  the  teamster.  "  Still,  I  guess  we  may 
come  to  it ;  there  are  more  toughs  about  the  settlement 
than  there  used  to  be.  Indians  have  been  pretty 
good,  but  I've  known  them  make  lots  of  trouble  in 
other  districts  by  killing  beasts  for  meat  and  picking 
up  stray  horses.  But  that  was  where  they  had  mean 
whites  willing  to  trade  with  them." 


102  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

George  considered  this.  It  had  struck  him  that  the 
morality  of  the  country  had  not  improved  since  he  had 
last  visited  it;  though  this  was  not  surprising  in  view 
of  the  swarm  of  immigrants  that  were  pouring  in. 
Grant  had  pithily  said  that  once  upon  a  time  the  boys 
had  come  there  to  work;  but  it  now  looked  as  if  a  cer- 
tain proportion  had  arrived  on  the  prairie  because  no- 
body could  tolerate  them  at  home.  Flett  and  the 
Methodist  preacher  seemed  convinced  that  there  were 
a  number  of  these  undesirables  hanging  about  Sage 
Butte,  ready  for  mischief. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  suppose  the  first  thing  to  be 
done  is  to  stop  this  liquor-running." 

They  had  no  further  conversation  for  another  hour. 
The  poplars  rustled  behind  them  and  the  grass  rippled 
and  clashed,  but  now  and  then  the  breeze  died  away 
for  a  few  moments,  and  there  was  a  curious  and  al- 
most disconcerting  stillness.  At  last,  in  one  of  these 
intervals,  the  Canadian,  partly  rising,  lifted  his  hand. 

"  Listen !  "  he  said.     "  Guess  I  hear  a  team." 

A  low  rhythmic  drumming  that  suggested  the  beat 
of  hoofs  rose  from  the  waste,  but  it  was  lost  as  the 
branches  rattled  and  the  long  grass  swayed  noisily 
before  a  rush  of  breeze.  George  thought  the  sound 
had  come  from  somewhere  half  a  mile  away. 

"  If  they're  Indians,  would  they  bring  a  wagon  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  It's  quite  likely.  Some  of  the  bucks  keep  smart 
teams ;  they  do  a  little  rough  farming  on  the  reserva- 
tion. It  would  look  as  if  they  were  going  for  sloo 
hay,  if  anybody  saw  them." 

George  waited  in  silence,  wishing  he  could  hear  the 
thud  of  hoofs  again.  It  was  slightly  daunting  to  lie 


THE  LIQUOR-RUNNERS  103 

still  and  wonder  where  the  men  were.  It  is  never 
very  dark  in  summer  on  the  western  prairie,  and 
George  could  see  across  the  sloo,  but  there  was  no 
movement  that  the  wind  would  not  account  for 
among  the  black  trees  that  shut  it  in.  Several  min- 
utes passed,  and  George  looked  around  again  with 
strained  attention. 

Suddenly  a  dim  figure  emerged  from  the  gloom. 
Another  followed  it,  but  they  made  no  sound  that 
could  be  heard  through  the  rustle  of  the  leaves,  and 
George  felt  his  heart  beat  and  his  nerves  tingle  as  he 
watched  them  flit,  half  seen,  through  the  grass.  Then 
one  of  the  shadowy  objects  stooped,  lifting  something, 
and  they  went  back  as  noiselessly  as  they  had  come. 
In  a  few  more  moments  they  had  vanished,  and  the 
branches  about  them  clashed  in  a  rush  of  wind.  It 
died  away,  and  there  was  no  sound  or  sign  of  human 
presence  in  all  the  silent  wood.  George,  glad  that  the 
strain  was  over,  was  about  to  rise,  but  his  companion 
laid  a  hand  on  his  arm. 

"  Give  'em  time  to  get  clear.  We  don't  want  to 
come  up  until  there's  light  enough  to  swear  to  them 
or  they  make  the  reservation." 

They  waited  several  minutes,  and  then,  traversing 
the  wood,  found  their  horses  and  mounted.  The 
grass  stretched  away,  blurred  and  shadowy,  and 
though  they  could  see  nothing  that  moved  upon  it,  a 
beat  of  hoofs  came  softly  back  to  them. 

"  Wind's  bringing  the  sound,"  said  the  teamster. 
"  Guess  they  won't  hear  us." 

They  rode  out  into  the  gray  obscurity,  losing  the 
sound  now  and  then.  They  had  gone  several  leagues 
when  they  came  to  the  edge  of  a  dark  bluff.  Draw- 


104  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

ing  bridle,  they  sat  and  listened,  until  the  teamster 
broke  the  silence. 

"There's  a  trail  runs  through;  we'll  try  it." 

The  trail  was  difficult  to  find  and  bad  to  follow,  for 
long  grass  and  willow-scrub  partly  covered  it,  and  in 
spite  of  their  caution  the  men  made  a  good  deal  of 
noise.  That,  however,  seemed  of  less  importance,  for 
they  could  hear  nothing  ahead,  and  George  looked 
about  carefully  as  they  crossed  a  more  open  space. 
The  trees  were  getting  blacker  and  more  distinct;  he 
could  see  their  tops  clearly  against  the  sky,  and 
guessed  that  dawn  was  near.  How  far  it  was  to  the 
reservation  he  did  not  know,  but  there  would  be  light 
enough  in  another  hour  to  see  the  men  who  had  car- 
ried off  the  liquor.  Then  he  began  to  wonder  where 
the  latter  were,  for  there  was  now  no  sign  of  them. 

Suddenly,  when  the  wind  dropped  for  a  moment,  a 
faint  rattle  of  wheels  reached  them  from  the  depths  of 
the  wood,  and  the  teamster  raised  his  hand. 

"  Pretty  close,"  he  said.  "  Come  on  as  cautious  as 
you  can.  The  reservation's  not  far  away,  and  we 
don't  want  them  to  get  there  much  before  us." 

They  rode  a  little  more  slowly ;  but  when  the  rattle 
of  wheels  and  thud  of  hoofs  grew  sharply  distinct 
in  another  lull,  the  man  struck  his  horse. 

"  They've  heard  us !  "  he  cried.  "  We've  got  to  run 
them  down ! " 

George  urged  his  beast,  and  there  was  a  crackle  of 
brush  about  him  as  the  black  trees  streamed  past. 
The  thrill  of  the  pursuit  possessed  him ;  after  weeks  of 
patient  labor,  he  felt  the  exhilaration  of  the  wild  night 
ride.  The  trail,  he  knew,  was  riddled  here  and  there 
with  gopher  holes  and  partly  grown  with  brush  that 


THE  LIQUOR-RUNNERS  105 

might  bring  his  horse  down,  but  this  did  not  count. 
He  was  glad,  however,  that  the  teamster  was  behind 
him,  because  he  could  see  the  dim  gap  ahead  between 
the  mass  of  trees,  and  he  thought  that  it  was  rapidly 
becoming  less  shadowy.  The  sound  of  hoofs  and 
wheels  was  growing  louder ;  they  were  coming  up  with 
the  fugitives. 

"  Keep  them  on  the  run ! "  gasped  the  man  behind. 
"  If  one  of  us  gets  thrown,  the  other  fellow  will  hold 
right  on !  " 

A  few  minutes  later  George's  horse  plunged  with  a 
crash  through  a  break. 

"  We're  off  the  trail ! "  his  companion  cried. 
"  Guess  it  switches  round  a  sloo !  " 

They  floundered  through  crackling  brushwood  until 
they  struck  the  track,  and  afterward  rode  furiously  to 
make  up  the  lost  time,  with  the  sound  of  wheels  lead- 
ing them  on.  Then  in  the  gap  before  them  they  saw 
what  seemed  to  be  the  back  of  a  wagon  which,  to 
George's  surprise,  suddenly  disappeared.  The  next 
moment  a  figure  carrying  something  crossed  the  trail. 

"  To  the  right !  "  cried  the  teamster. 

George  did  not  think  his  companion  had  seen  the 
man.  He  rode  after  him  into  the  brush,  and  saw  the 
fellow  hurrying  through  it  with  a  load  in  his  arms. 
The  man  looked  around.  George  could  dimly  make 
out  his  dark  face ;  and  his  figure  was  almost  clear.  He 
was  an  Indian  and  unusually  tall.  Then  he  plunged 
into  a  screen  of  bushes,  and  George,  riding  savagely, 
drove  his  horse  at  the  obstacle. 

He  heard  the  twigs  snap  beneath  him,  a  drooping 
branch  struck  him  hard ;  and  then  he  gasped  with  hor- 
ror. In  front  there  opened  up  a  deep  black  rift  in 


106  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

which  appeared  the  tops  of  trees.  Seeing  it  was  too 
late  to  pull  up,  he  shook  his  feet  clear  of  the  stirrups. 
He  felt  the  horse  plunge  down,  there  was  a  shock, 
and  he  was  flung  violently  from  the  saddle.  He 
struck  a  precipitous  slope  and  rolled  down  it,  clutch- 
ing at  twigs,  which  broke,  and  grass,  until  he  felt  a 
violent  blow  on  his  head.  After  that  he  knew  noth- 
ing. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  consciousness  returned, 
and  he  found  himself  lying  half-way  down  a  steep 
declivity.  At  the  foot  of  it  tall  reeds  and  sedges  in- 
dicated the  presence  of  water,  and  he  realized  that 
he  had  fallen  into  a  ravine.  There  was  a  small  tree 
near  by,  against  which  he  supposed  he  had  struck 
his  head ;  but  somewhat  to  his  astonishment  he  could 
not  see  his  horse.  It  had  apparently  escaped  better 
than  he  had,  for  he  felt  dizzy  and  shaky  and  averse 
to  making  an  effort  to  get  up,  though  he  did  not  think 
he  had  broken  any  bones. 

After  a  while  he  fumbled  for  his  pipe  and  found 
some  difficulty  in  lighting  it,  but  he  persevered,  and 
lay  quiet  while  he  smoked  it  out.  The  sunlight  was 
creeping  down  the  gully,  it  was  getting  pleasantly 
warm,  and  George  felt  dull  and  lethargic.  Some 
time  had  passed  when  he  heard  the  teamster's  shout 
and  saw  the  man  scrambling  down  the  side  of  the 
ravine. 

"Badly  hurt?"  he  asked,  on  reaching  George. 

"  No,"  said  George ;  "  I  don't  think  it's  serious ;  I 
feel  half  asleep  and  stupid.  Suppose  that's  because  I 
hit  my  head." 

The  other  looked  at  him  searchingly.  His  eyes 
were  heavy  and  his  face  had  lost  its  usual  color. 


THE  LIQUOR-RUNNERS  107 

"  You  want  to  get  back  to  your  homestead  and  lie 
quiet  a  while.  I  didn't  miss  you  until  I'd  got  out  of 
the  bluff,  and  then  the  wagon  was  close  ahead." 

"  How  was  it  you  avoided  falling  in  after  me?  " 

"  That's  easy  understood  in  the  daylight.  The  trail 
twists  sharply  and  runs  along  the  edge  of  the  ravine. 
I  stuck  to  it;  instead  of  turning,  you  went  straight 
on." 

"  Yes,"  said  George,  and  mentioned  having  seen  the 
Indian  who  left  the  wagon.  Then  he  asked :  "  But 
what  about  the  fellow  you  followed?  " 

His  companion  hesitated. 

"  Guess  I've  been  badly  fooled.  I  came  up  with  him 
outside  the  bluff  when  it  was  getting  light,  and  he 
stopped  his  team.  Said  he  was  quietly  driving  home 
when  he  heard  somebody  riding  after  him,  and  as  he'd 
once  been  roughly  handled  by  mean  whites,  he  tried 
to  get  away.  Then  as  I  didn't  know  what  to  do, 
I  allowed  I'd  keep  him  in  sight  until  Constable  Flett 
turned  up,  and  by  and  by  we  came  to  a  deserted  shack. 
There's  a  well  in  the  bluff  behind  it,  and  the  buck 
said  his  team  wanted  a  drink;  they  certainly  looked 
a  bit  played  out,  and  my  mare  was  thirsty.  He  found 
an  old  bucket  and  asked  me  to  fill  it." 

"  You  didn't  leave  him  with  the  horses ! " 

"  No,  sir ;  but  what  I  did  was  most  as  foolish.  I 
let  him  go  and  he  didn't  come  back.  See  how  I  was 
fixed?  If  I'd  gone  into  the  bluff  to  look  for  him, 
he  might  have  slipped  out  and  driven  off,  so  I  stood 
by  the  beasts  quite  a  while.  It  strikes  me  that  team 
wasn't  his.  At  last  Flett  rode  up  with  another 
trooper.  It  seems  Steve  met  them  on  the  trail." 

George  nodded.     Flett  had  arrived  before  he  was 


io8  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

expected,  because  Grant's  messenger  had  been  saved  a 
long  ride  to  his  station. 

"Well?"  he  said. 

"  When  we  couldn't  find  the  buck,  Flett  sent  his 
partner  off  to  pick  up  his  trail,  and  then  said  we'd 
better  take  the  team  along  and  look  for  you.  I  left 
where  the  trail  forks ;  he  was  to  wait  a  bit.  Now  do 
you  think  you  can  get  up?  " 

George  did  so,  and  managed  with  some  assistance 
to  climb  the  slope,  where  his  companion  left  him  and 
went  off  for  the  constable.  Flett  arrived  presently, 
and  made  George  tell  his  story. 

"  The  thing's  quite  plain,"  he  said.  "  The  fellow 
you  saw  jumped  off  with  the  liquor,  though  one 
wouldn't  expect  him  to  carry  it  far.  You  say  he  was 
tall;  did  he  walk  a  little  lame?  " 

"  It  was  too  dark  to  tell.  I'm  inclined  to  think  I 
would  know  him  again." 

"  Well,"  explained  Flett,  "  this  is  the  kind  of  thing 
Little  Ax  is  likely  to  have  a  hand  in,  and  he's  the 
tallest  buck  in  the  crowd.  I'll  stick  to  the  team  until 
we  come  across  somebody  who  knows  its  owner.  The 
first  thing  we  have  to  do  is  to  find  that  case  of  liquor." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  teamster  came  back  carrying 
it,  and  set  it  down  before  the  constable  with  a  grin. 

"  Guess  it's  your  duty  to  see  what's  in  these  bottles," 
he  remarked.  "  Shall  I  get  one  out  ?  " 

"  You  needn't ;  I've  a  pretty  good  idea,"  answered 
Flett ;  adding  meaningly,  "  besides,  it's  the  kind  of 
stuff  a  white  man  can't  drink."  Then  he  turned  to 
George.  "  I'd  better  take  you  home.  You  look  kind 
of  shaky." 

"  What  about  my  horse  ?  "  George  asked. 


THE  LIQUOR-RUNNERS  109 

"  Guess  he's  made  for  home,"  said  the  teamster. 
"  I  struck  his  trail,  and  it  led  right  out  of  the  woods." 

George  got  into  the  wagon  with  some  trouble,  and 
the  teamster  rode  beside  it  when  they  set  off. 

"  You  haven't  much  to  put  before  a  court,"  he  said 
to  Flett. 

"  No,"  the  constable  replied  thoughtfully.  "  I'm 
not  sure  our  people  will  take  this  matter  up ;  anyway, 
it  looks  as  if  we  could  only  fix  it  on  the  Indians.  This 
is  what  comes  of  you  folks  fooling  things,  instead  of 
leaving  them  to  us." 

"  The  police  certainly  like  a  conviction,"  rejoined 
the  teamster,  grinning.  "  They  feel  real  bad  when 
the  court  lets  a  fellow  off;  seem  to  think  that's  their 
business.  Guess  it's  why  a  few  of  their  prisoners 
escape." 

Flett  ignored  this,  and  the  teamster  turned  to 
George. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  once  happened  to  me.  I  was 
working  for  a  blamed  hard  boss,  and  it  doesn't  matter 
why  I  quit  without  getting  my  wages  out  of  him,  but 
he  wasn't  feeling  good  when  I  lit  out  behind  a  freight- 
car.  By  bad  luck,  there  was  a  trooper  handy  when  a 
train-hand  found  me  at  a  lonely  side-track.  Well, 
that  policeman  didn't  know  what  to  do  with  me.  It 
was  quite  a  way  to  the  nearest  guard-room;  they 
don't  get  medals  for  corraling  a  man  who's  only  stolen 
a  ride,  and  he  had  to  watch  out  for  some  cattle 
rustlers ;  so  wherever  he  went  I  had  to  go  along  with 
him.  We  got  quite  friendly,  and  one  night  he  said 
to  me,  '  There's  a  freight  that  stops  here  nearly  due. 
I'll  go  to  sleep  while  you  get  out  on  her.' ' 

The  teamster  paused  and  added  with  a  laugh : 


no  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  That's  what  I  did,  and  I'd  be  mighty  glad  to  set 
the  drinks  up  if  I  ever  meet  that  man  off  duty.  We'd 
both  have  a  full-size  jag  on  before  we  quit." 

"  And  you're  one  of  the  fellows  who're  running 
Hardie's  temperance  campaign ! "  Flett  said  dryly. 


CHAPTER  XI 

DIPLOMACY 

Tj^LETT  left  the  team  at  George's  homestead.  Bid- 
•*•  ding  him  take  good  care  of  it,  and  borrowing  a 
fresh  team,  he  drove  away  with  the  wagon.  When 
he  reached  Sage  Butte  it  was  getting  dusk.  He  hitched 
the  horses  outside  of  the  better  of  the  two  hotels  and 
entered  in  search  of  food,  as  he  had  still  a  long  ride 
before  him.  Supper  had  long  been  finished,  and  Flett 
was  kept  waiting  for  some  time,  but  he  now  and  then 
glanced  at  the  wagon.  It  was  dark  when  he  drove 
away,  after  seeing  that  the  case  lay  where  he  had  left 
it,  and  he  had  reached  his  post  before  he  made  a 
startling  discovery.  When  he  carried  the  case  into 
the  lamplight,  it  looked  smaller,  and  on  hastily  open- 
ing it  he  found  it  was  filled  with  soil ! 

He  sat  down  and  thought;  though  on  the  surface 
the  matter  was  clear  —  he  had  been  cleverly  out- 
witted by  somebody  who  had  exchanged  the  case  while 
he  got  his  meal.  This,  as  he  reflected,  was  not  the 
kind  of  thing  for  which  a  constable  got  promoted ; 
but  there  were  other  points  that  required  attention. 
The  substitution  had  not  been  effected  by  anybody  con- 
nected with  the  Queen's;  it  was,  he  suspected,  the 
work  of  some  of  the  frequenters  of  the  Sachem ;  and 
he  and  his  superiors  had  to  contend  with  a  well- 
Ill 


ii2  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

organized  gang.  News  of  what  had  happened  in  the 
bluff  had  obviously  been  transmitted  to  the  settlement 
while  he  had  rested  at  Lansing's  homestead.  He  had, 
however,  made  a  long  journey,  and  as  he  would  have 
to  ride  on  and  report  the  matter  to  his  sergeant  in 
the  morning,  he  went  to  sleep. 

The  next  day  George  was  setting  out  on  a  visit  to 
Grant  when  a  man  rode  up  and  asked  for  the  team. 

"  Flett  can't  get  over,  but  he  wants  the  horses  at 
the  post,  so  as  to  have  them  handy  if  he  finds  any- 
body who  can  recognize  them,"  he  explained. 

That  sounded  plausible,  but  George  hesitated.  The 
animals  would  be  of  service  as  a  clue  to  their  owner 
and  a  proof  of  his  complicity  in  the  affair.  As  they 
had  not  been  identified,  it  would  embarrass  the  police 
if  they  were  missing. 

"  I  can  only  hand  them  over  to  a  constable,  unless 
you  have  brought  a  note  from  Flett,"  he  replied. 

"  Then,  as  I  haven't  one,  you'll  beat  me  out  of  a 
day's  pay,  and  make  Flett  mighty  mad.  Do  you  think 
he'd  get  anybody  who  might  know  the  team  to  waste 
a  day  riding  out  to  your  place?  Guess  the  folks 
round  here  are  too  busy,  and  they'd  be  glad  of  the 
excuse  that  it  was  so  far.  They  won't  want  to  mix 
themselves  up  in  this  thing." 

George  could  find  no  fault  with  this  reasoning,  but 
he  thought  the  fellow  was  a  little  too  eager  to  secure 
the  horses. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  as  I'm  going  to  call  on  Mr. 
Grant,  I'll  see  what  he  has  to  say.  If  I'm  not  back 
in  time,  Mr.  West  will  give  you  supper." 

"  Then  Grant's  standing  in  with  you  and  the  tem- 
perance folks  ?  " 


DIPLOMACY  113 

It  struck  George  that  he  had  been  incautious,  but 
he  could  not  determine  whether  the  man  had  blun- 
dered or  not.  His  question  suggested  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  situation,  but  an  accomplice  of  the 
offenders  would,  no  doubt,  have  heard  of  the  part 
Grant's  hired  man  had  played. 

"  I  don't  see  how  that  concerns  you,"  he  replied. 
"  You'll  have  to  wait  until  I  return  if  you  want  the 
team." 

He  rode  on,  but  he  had  not  gone  far  when  he  met 
Beamish,  of  the  Sachem. 

"  I  was  coming  over  to  see  you,"  the  man  told  him. 
"  You  bought  that  young  Hereford  bull  of  Brough- 
ton's,  didn't  you  ?  " 

George  was  surprised  at  the  question,  but  he  an- 
swered that  he  had  done  so. 

"  Then  would  you  sell  him  ?  " 

"  I  hadn't  thought  of  it." 

"  Guess  that  means  I'll  have  to  tempt  you,"  Beam- 
ish said.  "  I  want  the  beast." 

He  named  a  price  that  struck  George  as  being  in 
excess  of  the  animal's  value ;  and  then  explained : 

"  I've  seen  him  once  or  twice  before  he  fell  into 
Broughton's  hands;  the  imported  Red  Rover  strain 
is  marked  in  him,  and  a  friend  of  mine,  who's  go- 
ing in  for  Here  fords,  told  me  not  to  stick  at  a  few 
dollars  if  I  could  pick  up  such  a  bull." 

This  was  plausible,  but  not  altogether  satisfactory, 
and  George,  reflecting  that  a  buyer  does  not  really 
praise  what  he  means  to  purchase,  imagined  that 
there  was  something  behind  it. 

"  I'm  not  likely  to  get  a  better  bid,"  he  admitted. 
"  But  I  must  ask  if  the  transaction  would  be  com- 


114  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

plete?  Would  you  expect  anything  further  from  me 
in  return  ?  " 

Beamish  regarded  him  keenly,  with  a  faint  smile. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  certainly  want  the  bull,  but  you 
seem  to  understand.  Leave  it  at  that;  I'm  offering 
to  treat  you  pretty  liberally." 

"  So  as  to  prevent  my  assisting  Flett  in  any  way 
or  taking  a  part  in  Hardie's  campaign  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  consider  it  the  square  thing  for  you 
to  do,"  Beamish  returned  quietly. 

George  thought  of  the  man  who  was  waiting  at 
the  homestead  for  the  team.  It  was  obvious  that  an 
attempt  was  being  made  to  buy  him,  and  he  strongly 
resented  it. 

"  Then  I  can  only  tell  you  that  I  won't  make  this 
deal.  That's  the  end  of  the  matter." 

Beamish  nodded  and  started  his  horse,  but  he  looked 
back  as  he  rode  off. 

"  Well,"  he  called,  in  a  meaning  tone,  "  you  may 
be  sorry." 

George  rode  on  to  Grant's  homestead,  and  finding 
him  at  work  in  the  fallow,  told  him  what  had  passed. 

"  I  fail  to  see  why  they're  so  eager  to  get  hold  of 
me,"  he  concluded. 

Grant,  sitting  in  the  saddle  of  the  big  plow,  thought- 
fully rilled  his  pipe. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  "  it  wasn't  a  coincidence  that 
Beamish  came  over  soon  after  the  fellow  turned  up 
for  the  horses.  It  would  have  been  worth  while  buy- 
ing the  bull  if  you  had  let  them  go  —  especially  as  I 
believe  it's  right  about  a  friend  of  his  wanting  one 
—  and  nobody  could  have  blamed  you  for  selling. 
The  fact  is,  your  position  counts.  The  bluff  would 


DIPLOMACY  115 

make  a  handy  place  for  a  depot,  and,  while  there's 
nobody  else  near,  you  command  the  trails  to  it  and 
the  reservation.  Nobody  could  get  by  from  the  set- 
tlement without  being  seen,  unless  they  made  a  big 
round,  if  you  watched  out." 

"  I'm  beginning  to  understand.  What  you  say  im- 
plies that  they're  doing  a  good  trade." 

"  That's  so,"  Grant  assented.  "  I  wouldn't  have 
believed  it  was  so  big  before  Hardie  put  me  on  the 
track  and  I  began  to  look  around.  But  you  want  to 
remember  that  what  you're  doing  may  cost  you  some- 
thing. I'm  your  nearest  neighbor,  you're  running 
stock  that  are  often  out  of  sight,  and  you're  up  against 
a  determined  crowd." 

"  It's  true,"  George  admitted.  "  Still,  I  can't  back 
out." 

Grant  cast  a  keen,  approving  glance  at  him.  George 
sat  quietly  in  his  saddle  with  a  smile  on  his  brown 
face ;  his  pose  was  easy  but  virile :  there  was  a  stamp 
of  refinement  and  old  country  breeding  upon  him.  His 
eyes  were  suggestively  steady;  his  skin  was  clear;  he 
looked  forceful  in  an  unemphatic  manner.  The 
farmer  was  to  some  extent  prejudiced  against  the 
type,  but  he  could  make  exceptions.  He  had  liked 
Lansing  from  the  beginning,  and  he  knew  that  he 
could  work. 

"No,"  he  said;  "I  guess  you're  not  that  kind  of 
man.  But  won't  you  get  down  and  go  along  to  the 
house?  Flora  will  be  glad  to  talk  with  you,  and  I'll 
be  in  for  supper  soon." 

George  thanked  him,  and  did  as  he  suggested.  He 
was  beginning  to  find  pleasure  in  the  conversation  of 
Flora  Grant. 


ii6  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

It  was  two  hours  later  when  he  took  his  leave 
and  the  farmer  went  out  with  him. 

"  I  don't  know  what  Hardie's  doing,  but  I've  an 
idea  that  Mrs.  Nelson  means  to  make  some  move  at 
the  Farmers'  Club  fair,"  he  said.  "  She's  a  mighty 
determined  and  enterprising  woman.  If  you  can 
spare  the  time,  you'd  better  ride  in  and  see  w-hat's  go- 
ing on." 

On  reaching  home,  George  was  not  surprised  to  find 
that  the  man  w-ho  had  come  for  the  horses  had  de- 
parted without  waiting  for  his  answer.  The  next  day 
he  received  an  intimation  that  the  annual  exhibition  of 
the  Sage  Butte  Farmers'  Club  would  shortly  be  held ; 
and  one  morning  a  fortnight  later  he  and  Edgar  rode 
off  to  the  settlement. 

They  found  the  little  town  rudely  decorated  with 
flags  and  arches  of  poplar  boughs,  and  a  good-humored 
crowd  assembled.  The  one-sided  street  that  faced  the 
track  was  lined  with  buggies,  wagons,  and  a  few  auto- 
mobiles; horses  and  two  or  three  yoke  of  oxen  were 
tethered  outside  the  overfull  livery  stables. 

A  strong  breeze  drove  blinding  dust-clouds  through 
the  place,  but  even  in  the  wind  the  sunshine  was 
scorching. 

As  he  strolled  toward  the  fair-ground,  George  be- 
came interested  in  the  crowd.  It  was  largely  com- 
posed of  small  farmers,  and  almost  without  excep- 
tion they  and  their  wives  were  smartly  attired;  they 
looked  contented  and  prosperous.  Mingling  with 
them  were  teamsters,  many  as  neatly  dressed  as  their 
masters,  though  some  wore  blue-jean  and  saffron-col- 
ored shirts ;  and  there  were  railroad-hands,  mechanics, 
and  store-keepers.  All  of  them  were  cheerful;  a  few 


DIPLOMACY  117 

good  years,  free  from  harvest  frost  and  blight,  had 
made  a  marked  improvement  in  everybody's  lot. 

Yet,  there  was  another  side  to  the  picture.  Odd 
groups  of  loungers  indulged  in  scurrilous  jests;  hoarse 
laughter  and  an  occasional  angry  uproar  issued  from 
the  hotels,  and  shabby  men  with  hard  faces  slouched 
about  the  veranda  of  one.  George  noticed  this,  but 
he  presently  reached  the  fair-ground,  where  he  in- 
spected the  animals  and  implements ;  and  then,  toward 
supper-time,  he  strolled  back  with  Grant.  They  were 
walking  up  one  of  the  side-streets  when  shouts  broke 
out  behind  them. 

George  looked  around  but  for  a  moment  he  could 
see  very  little  through  the  cloud  of  dust  that  swept 
the  street.  When  it  blew  away  it  revealed  a  row  of 
women  advancing  two  by  two  along  the  plank  sidewalk. 
They  were  of  different  ages  and  stations  in  life,  but 
they  all  came  on  as  if  with  a  fixed  purpose,  and  they 
had  resolute  faces.  Mrs.  Nelson  led  them,  carrying 
a  riding  quirt,  and  though  George  was  not  astonished 
to  see  her,  he  started  when  he  noticed  Flora  Grant 
near  the  end  of  the  procession.  She  was  paler  than 
usual,  and  she  walked  quietly  with  a  rather  strained 
expression. 

Grant  touched  George's  shoulder. 

"  This  is  certainly  more  than  I  figured  on,"  he  said ; 
"  but  I  guess  there's  .no  use  in  my  objecting.  Now 
she's  started,  she'll  go  through  with  it.  They're  mak- 
ing for  the  Sachem ;  we  had  better  go  along." 

Shortly  afterward,  a  gathering  crowd  blocked  the 
street. 

"  Speech !  "  somebody  cried ;  and  there  was  ironical 
applause. 


Ii8  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Mrs.  Nelson  raised  her  hand,  and  when  the  proces- 
sion stopped,  she  looked  sternly  at  the  men  before  her. 

"  No,"  she  answered ;  "  speeches  are  wasted  on  such 
folks ;  we're  here  to  act !  " 

She  waved  the  quirt  commandingly. 

"  Let  us  pass !  " 

She  was  obeyed.  The  women  moved  on;  and 
George  and  Grant  managed  to  enter  the  hotel  behind 
them  before  the  throng  closed  in.  The  big  general- 
room  was  hot  and  its  atmosphere  almost  intolerably 
foul;  the  bar,  which  opened  off  it,  was  shadowy,  and 
the  crowded  figures  of  lounging  men  showed  dimly 
through  thick  cigar  smoke.  The  hum  of  their  voices 
died  away  and  there  was  a  curious  silence  as  the 
women  came  in.  Edging  forward,  George  saw  Beam- 
ish leaning  on  his  counter,  looking  quietly  self-pos- 
sessed and  very  dapper  in  his  white  shirt  and  well- 
cut  clothes. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  what  do  you  ladies  want  with 
me?" 

Their  leader  faced  him,  a  small  and  yet  command- 
ing figure,  with  an  imperious  expression  and  sparkling 
eyes. 

"  You  got  a  notice  that  from  supper-time  this  bar 
must  be  shut !  " 

"  I  did,  ma'am.  It  was  signed  by  you.  Now,  so 
far  as  I  know,  the  magistrates  are  the  only  people  who 
can  close  my  hotel." 

"  That's  so ! "  shouted  somebody ;  and  there  were 
confused  murmurs  and  harsh  laughter  which  sug- 
gested that  some  of  the  loungers  were  not  quite  sober. 

"  Fire  them  out!  "  cried  another  man.  "  Guess  this 
is  why  Nelson  gets  cold  potatoes  for  his  supper. 


DIPLOMACY  119 

Ought  to  be  at  home  mending  socks  or  washing  their 
men's  clothes." 

The  lady  turned  sternly  on  the  last  speaker. 

"  Yes,"  she  said ;  "  that's  the  kind  of  idea  you  would 
hold.  It's  getting  played  out  now." 

George  was  conscious  of  slight  amusement.  The 
affair  had  its  humorous  side,  and,  though  he  was  ready 
to  interfere  if  the  women  were  roughly  handled,  he  did 
not  think  they  ran  any  serious  risk.  Beamish  looked 
capable  of  dealing  with  the  situation. 

"  You  don't  require  to  butt  in,  boys,"  he  said. 
"  Leave  me  to  talk  to  these  ladies ;  I  guess  their  in- 
tentions are  good."  He  bowed  to  Mrs.  Nelson. 
"  You  can  go  on,  ma'am." 

"  I've  only  this  to  say  —  you  must  close  your  bar 
right  now !  " 

"  Suppose  I'm  not  willing?  It  will  mean  a  big  loss 
to  me." 

"  That,"  answered  Mrs.  Nelson  firmly,  "  doesn't 
count;  the  bigger  the  loss,  the  better.  You  will  stop 
the  sale  of  drink  until  to-morrow,  or  take  the  conse- 
quences." 

Another  woman,  who  looked  careworn  and  hag- 
gard, and  was  shabbily  dressed,  stood  forward. 

"  We  and  the  children  have  borne  enough !  "  she 
broke  out.  "  We  have  to  save  the  cord-wood  in  the 
bitter  cold ;  we  have  to  send  the  kiddies  out  in  old,  thin 
clothes,  while  the  money  that  would  make  home  worth 
living  in  goes  into  your  register.  Where  are  the  boys 
—  our  husbands  and  sons  —  who  once  held  steady 
jobs  and  did  good  work?"  She  raised  an  accusing 
hand,  with  despair  in  her  pinched  face.  "  Oh !  I 
needn't  tell  you  —  they're  rebranding  farmers'  calves 


120  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

or  hiding  from  the  police!  Don't  you  know  of  one 
who  walked  to  his  death  through  the  big  trestle,  dazed 
with  liquor?  For  these  things  the  men  who  tempted 
them  will  have  to  answer!" 

"  True,  but  not  quite  to  the  point,"  Mrs.  Nelson 
interposed.  "  We  have  found  remonstrance  useless ; 
the  time  for  words  has  passed.  This  fellow  has  had 
his  warning;  we're  waiting  for  him  to  comply  with 
it." 

There  was  an  uproar  outside  from  the  crowd  that 
was  struggling  to  get  in  and  demanding  to  be  told 
what  was  going  on;  but  Beamish  made  a  sign  of 
resignation. 

"  It  looks  as  if  I  couldn't  refuse  you;  and  anyway 
it  wouldn't  be  polite."  He  turned  to  his  customers. 
"  Boys,  it's  not  my  fault,  but  you'll  get  no  more  drinks 
to-day.  For  all  that,  I  must  make  a  point  of  asking 
you  to  treat  these  ladies  with  respect." 

"  Smart,"  Grant  remarked  to  George.  "  He  has 
handled  the  thing  right.  This  means  trouble  for 
Hardie." 

Then  Beamish  once  more  addressed  the  intruders. 

"  Now  that  I've  given  in,  has  it  struck  you  that  there 
isn't  much  use  in  closing  my  place  if  you  leave  the 
Queen's  open?" 

"  We'll  shut  them  both !  "  Mrs.  Nelson  declared. 

"  Then  there's  just  another  point  —  I've  folks  who 
have  driven  a  long  way,  staying  the  night  with  me,  and 
there's  quite  a  crowd  coming  in  for  supper.  How  am 
I  to  treat  them?" 

"  They  can  have  all  they  want  to  eat,"  Mrs.  Nelson 
told  him  graciously ;  "  but  no  liquor." 


DIPLOMACY  121 

"  I  can't  refuse  to  supply  them  without  a  reason. 
What  am  I  to  say?" 

"  Tell  them  that  the  Women's  Reform  League  has 
compelled  you  to  close  your  bar." 

"  And  I've  been  given  the  orders  by  their  acknowl- 
edged secretary  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I'm  proud  of  being  their  leader,  and  of  the 
duty  I've  discharged." 

Beamish  turned  to  his  customers. 

"  You'll  remember  what  she  has  told  me,  boys !  " 

Grant  drew  George  away. 

"  She  walked  right  into  the  trap ;  you  couldn't  have 
stopped  her.  I'm  sorry  for  Hardie.  But  we  may  as 
well  get  out  now ;  there'll  be  no  trouble." 

The  street  was  blocked  when  the  women  left,  but  a 
passage  was  made  for  them ;  and,  followed  by  every- 
body in  the  settlement,  they  proceeded  to  the  other 
hotel,  whose  proprietor  capitulated.  Then  Mrs.  Nel- 
son made  a  speech,  in  which  she  pointed  out  that  for 
once  the  festival  would  not  be  marked  by  the  orgies 
which  had  on  previous  occasions  disgraced  the  town. 
Her  words,  by  no  means  conciliatory,  and  her  aggres- 
sive air  provoked  the  crowd,  which  had,  for  the  most 
part,  watched  the  proceedings  with  amusement.  There 
were  cries  of  indignant  dissent,  angry  shouts,  and  the 
throng  began  to  close  in  upon  the  speaker.  Then  there 
was  sudden  silence,  and  the  concourse  split  apart. 
Into  the  gap  rode  a  slim  young  man  in  khaki,  with  a 
wide  hat  of  the  same  color,  who  pulled  up  and  sat 
looking  at  the  people  with  his  hand  on  his  hip. 
George  recognized  him  as  the  constable  who  shared  the 
extensive  beat  with  Flett. 


122  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Now/'  he  said  good-humoredly,  "  what's  all  this 
fuss  about  ?  " 

Several  of  them  informed  him  and  he  listened 
gravely  before  he  called  one  of  the  farmer's  stewards, 
and  spoke  a  few  words  to  him. 

"  It  strikes  me,"  he  said,  "  that  you  had  all  better 
go  back  to  the  fair-ground,  while  I  look  into  things. 
There's  an  item  or  two  on  the  program  Mr.  Carson 
wants  to  work  off  before  supper." 

He  had  taken  the  right  tone,  and  when  they  began 
to  disperse  he  rode  on  to  the  Sachem. 

"  I  want  your  account  of  this  disturbance,"  he  said 
to  the  proprietor. 

Beamish  related  what  had  taken  place  and  the  con- 
stable looked  surprised. 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  you're  afraid  to  open 
your  bar  because  of  the  women?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Beamish,  coolly ;  "  that's  about 
the  size  of  it.  You'd  have  been  scared,  too;  they're 
a  mighty  determined  crowd." 

"  Nobody  except  the  authorities  has  any  right  to 
interfere." 

"  That's  my  opinion,  but  what  am  I  to  do  about 
it?  Suppose  these  women  come  back,  will  you  stand 
at  the  door  and  keep  them  out?  They're  capable  of 
mobbing  you." 

The  constable  looked  dubious,  and  Beamish  con- 
tinued : 

"  Besides,  I've  given  them  my  word  I'd  shut  up  — 
they  made  me." 

"  Then  how  do  you  expect  us  to  help  ?  " 

"  So  far  as  I  can  see,  you  can  only  report  the  mat- 
ter to  your  bosses." 


DIPLOMACY  123 

The  constable  felt  inclined  to  agree  with  this.  He 
asked  for  the  names  of  the  ladies,  and  Beamish  hesi- 
tated. 

"  I  was  too  taken  up  with  Mrs.  Nelson  to  notice  the 
rest,  and  the  place  was  rather  dark.  Anyway,  about 
half  of  them  were  foolish  girls  with  notions;  I  don't 
want  to  drag  them  in." 

"  You  blame  somebody  for  setting  them  on  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  Beamish,  without  a  trace  of  rancor. 
"  There's  Mrs.  Nelson  —  everybody  knows  she's  a 
crank  —  and  Hardie,  the  Methodist  minister. 
They've  been  trying  to  make  trouble  for  the  hotels 
for  quite  a  while." 

The  constable  made  a  note  of  this  and  presently 
called  on  Hardie,  who  had  just  returned  to  town  after 
visiting  a  sick  farmer.  The  former  listened  to  what 
the  minister  had  to  say,  but  was  not  much  impressed. 
Beamish  had  cleverly  made  him  his  partizan. 

After  supper  George  and  Grant  called  on  Hardie  and 
found  him  looking  distressed. 

"  I'm  much  afraid  that  the  result  of  three  or  four 
months'  earnest  work  has  been  destroyed  this  after- 
noon," he  said.  "  Our  allies  have  stirred  up  popular 
prejudice  against  us.  We'll  meet  with  opposition 
whichever  way  we  turn." 

"  There's  something  in  that,"  Grant  agreed.  "  Mrs. 
Nelson's  a  lady  who  would  wreck  any  cause.  Still, 
she  has  closed  the  hotels." 

"  For  one  night.  As  a  result  of  this  afternoon's 
work,  they  will  probably  be  kept  open  altogether.  You 
can  imagine  how  the  authorities  will  receive  any  rep- 
resentations we  can  make,  after  our  being  implicated 
in  this  disturbance." 


124  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Have  you  thought  of  disowning  the  ladies  ?  You 
could  do  so  —  you  had  no  hand  in  the  thing." 

The  young  clergyman  flushed  hotly. 

"  I'd  have  stopped  this  rashness,  if  I'd  heard  of  it ; 
but,  after  all,  I'm  the  real  instigator,  since  I  started 
the  campaign.  I'm  willing  to  face  my  share  of  the 
blame." 

"  You  mean  you'll  let  Beamish  make  you  respon- 
sible?" 

"  Of  course,"  said  Hardie.  "  I  can't  deny  I'm 
leader.  The  move  was  a  mistake,  considered  pru- 
dentially;  but  it  was  morally  justifiable.  I'll  defend 
it  as  strongly  as  I'm  able." 

Grant  nodded,  and  Flora  and  Mrs.  Nelson  came  in. 

"  Are  you  satisfied  with  what  you've  done?  "  Grant 
said  to  the  girl.  "  You  might  have  given  me  a  hint 
of  it." 

Flora  smiled. 

"  I'm  afraid  Beamish  was  too  clever  for  us.  From 
an  outsider's  point  of  view,  he  behaved  exceptionally 
well,  and  in  doing  so  he  put  us  in  the  wrong.  I 
didn't  know  what  had  been  planned  when  I  left  home, 
but,  as  one  of  the  league,  I  couldn't  draw  back  when 
I  heard  of  it." 

"  You  think  he  was  too  clever?  "  Mrs  Nelson  broke 
in.  "  How  absurd  to  say  that !  We  have  won  a 
brilliant  victory !  " 

Grant  made  a  little  gesture. 

"If  you're  convinced  of  that,  ma'am,  we'll  leave  you 
to  talk  it  over." 

He  led  George  toward  the  door. 

"  I  like  that  man  Hardie,"  he  resumed  when  they 


DIPLOMACY  125 

reached  the  street.  "  Beamish  has  him  beaten  for  the 
present,  but  I'm  thankful  there'll  be  no  women  about 
when  we  come  to  grips  with  his  crowd.  It  may  take 
a  while,  but  those  fellows  have  got  to  be  downed." 


CHAPTER  XII 

GEORGE    FACES    DISASTER 

A  FORTNIGHT  had  passed  since  the  affair  at  the 
settlement  when  Hardie  arrived  at  the  Marston 
homestead  toward  supper-time.     After  the  meal  was 
over,  he  accompanied  his  host  and  Edgar  to  the  little 
room  used  for  an  office. 

"  As  I've  been  busy  since  four  this  morning,  I  don't 
mean  to  do  anything  more,"  said  George.  "  I  suppose 
you  don't  smoke?" 

"  No,"  Hardie  answered.  "  It's  a  concession  I  can 
make  without  much  effort  to  our  stricter  brethren. 
I'm  inclined  to  believe  they  consider  smoking  almost  as 
bad  as  drink.  You  agree  with  them  about  the  latter  ?  " 

"  We  try  to  be  consistent,"  Edgar  told  him.  "  You 
see,  I  couldn't  very  well  indulge  in  an  occasional  drink 
when  I've  undertaken  to  make  those  Sage  Butte  fel- 
lows abstainers.  Anyhow,  though  you're  by  no  means 
liberal  in  your  view,  you're  practical  people.  As  soon 
as  I  landed  at  Montreal,  a  pleasant  young  man,  wear- 
ing a  silver  monogram  came  up  to  me,  and  offered  me 
introductions  to  people  who  might  find  me  a  job. 
Though  I  didn't  want  one,  I  was  grateful ;  and  when 
I  told  him  I  wasn't  one  of  his  flock,  he  said  it  didn't 
matter.  That  kind  of  thing  makes  a  good  impres- 
sion." 

126 


GEORGE  FACES  DISASTER         127 

"How  are  you  getting  on  at  the  settlement?" 
George  interposed. 

Hardie  sat  silent  for  a  few  moments,  and  George  saw 
that  his  eyes  were  anxious  and  his  face  looked  worn. 

"  Badly,"  he  said.  "  I  feel  I  can  talk  to  you  freely, 
and  that's  really  why  I  came,  though  I  had  another 
call  to  make." 

"  You're  having  trouble  ?  " 

"  Plenty  of  it.  I've  had  another  visit  from  the 
police,  though  that's  not  a  very  important  matter; 
and  Mrs.  Nelson's  action  has  raised  a  storm  of  in- 
dignation. It  would  be  useless  to  move  any  further 
against  the  Sachem.  Even  this  is  not  the  worst.  Our 
people  are  split  up  by  disagreements ;  I've  been  taken 
to  task;  my  staunchest  supporters  are  falling  away." 

"  They'll  rally,"  said  George.  "  Leave  those  who 
haven't  the  courage  to  do  so  alone;  you're  better  rid 
of  them.  I  suppose  it's  apt  to  make  a  difference  in 
your  finances." 

The  clergyman  colored. 

"  That's  true,  though  it's  hard  to  own.  It  subjects 
one  to  a  strong  temptation.  After  all,  we're  expected 
to  keep  our  churches  full  —  it's  necessary." 

"  The  road  to  success,"  Edgar  remarked,  "  is  com- 
paratively easy.  Always  proclaim  the  popular  view, 
but  be  a  little  more  emphatic  and  go  a  little  farther 
than  the  rest.  Then  they'll  think  you  a  genius  and 
make  haste  to  follow  your  lead." 

Hardie  looked  at  him  quietly. 

"  There's  another  way,  Mr.  West,  and  the  gate  of 
it  is  narrow.  I  think  it  seldom  leads  to  worldly  fame." 
He  paused  and  sighed.  "  It  needs  courage  to  enter, 
and  one  often  shrinks." 


128  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Well,"  said  Edgar,  "  I'll  confess  that  I  find  the 
popular  idea,  whatever  it  may  happen  to  be,  irritating ; 
I  like  to  annoy  the  people  who  hold  it  by  pointing  out 
their  foolishness,  which  is  partly  why  I'm  now  farming 
in  western  Canada.  George,  of  course,  is  more  al- 
truistic; though  I  don't  think  he  ever  analyzes  his 
feelings.  As  soon  as  he  sees  anybody  in  trouble  and 
getting  beaten,  he  begins  to  strip.  I've  a  suspicion  that 
he  enjoys  a  fight!  " 

"If  you  would  stop  talking  rot,  we'd  get  on  better," 
George  said  curtly,  and  then  turned  to  his  visitor. 
"  I  gather  that  you're  afraid  of  wrecking  your  church. 
It's  an  awkward  situation,  but  I  suppose  you  have 
made  up  your  mind  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  must  go  on,  if  I  go  alone." 

The  man,  as  the  others  recognized,  had  no  intention 
of  being  dramatic,  but  his  quiet  announcement  had  its 
effect,  and  there  was  silence  for  a  moment  or  two. 
Then  Edgar,  who  was  impatient  of  any  display  of 
strong  feeling,  made  an  abrupt  movement. 

"  After  all,"  he  said  cheerfully,  "  you'll  have  Mrs. 
Nelson  beside  you,  and  I'm  inclined  to  think  she  would 
enliven  any  solitude." 

Hardie  smiled,  and  the  lad  continued : 

"  Now  we  had,  perhaps,  better  be  practical  and  con- 
sider how  to  get  over  the  difficulties." 

He  grew  less  discursive  when  they  fell  in  with  his 
suggestion.  George  possessed  sound  sense  and  some 
power  of  leading,  and  for  a  while  they  were  busy  elab- 
orating a  plan  of  campaign,  in  which  his  advice  was 
largely  deferred  to.  Then  there  was  an  interruption, 
for  Grierson,  his  hired  man,  came  in. 

"  I  was  hauling  hay  from  the  big  sloo  when  I  saw 


GEORGE  FACES  DISASTER         129 

the  Hereford  bull,"  he  said.  "  He  was  by  himself 
and  bleeding  from  the  shoulder.  Thought  I'd  better 
bring  him  home,  though  he  walked  very  lame." 

"  Ah !  "  exclaimed  George  sharply.  "  I'll  corne  and 
look  at  him." 

The  others  followed  and  on  reaching  the  wire-fenced 
corral  they  found  the  animal  lying  down,  with  its 
forequarter  stained  with  blood.  George  sent  for 
some  water,  and  he  soon  found  the  wound,  which  was 
very  small  and  round. 

"  It's  a  curious  mark,"  Hardie  commented. 

"  Yes,"  said  George;  "  it's  a  bullet  hole." 

The  surprise  of  the  others  was  obvious. 

"I  think  it's  a  hint,"  George  explained.  "We'll 
try  to  get  him  on  his  feet." 

They  succeeded,  and  when  the  beast  had  been  led 
into  a  stall,  George  turned  to  Hardie. 

"  As  you  said  you  wouldn't  stay  the  night,  would 
you  mind  starting  for  the  settlement  now?  The 
livery  stable  fellow  is  said  to  be  clever  at  veterinary 
work;  you  might  send  him  out,  and  mail  a  note  I'll 
give  you  to  the  police." 

Hardie  professed  his  willingness  to  be  of  service,  and 
on  getting  into  his  buggy  said,  with  some  hesitation : 

"  I'm  afraid  you're  right  in  your  suspicions,  and  I'm 
particularly  sorry.  In  a  way,  I'm  responsible  for 
this." 

George  smiled,  rather  grimly. 

"  One  can't  go  into  a  fight  without  getting  hurt ; 
and  we  haven't  come  to  the  end  of  it  yet.  This  affair 
won't  cost  you  my  support." 

The  clergyman's  eyes  sparkled  as  he  held  out  his 
hand. 


130  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  never  imagined  it  —  you  have  my  sympathy, 
Mr.  Lansing.  It  would  give  me  the  greatest  pleas- 
ure to  see  the  cowardly  brute  who  fired  that  shot 
brought  to  justice." 

He  drove  away,  and  George  went  moodily  back  to 
the  house  with  Edgar. 

"  That's  a  man  who  has  had  to  choose  between  his 
duty  and  his  interest,"  George  said ;  "  but  just  now 
we  have  other  things  to  think  about.  It's  a  pity  I 
can't  get  the  bullet  out  until  help  arrives." 

The  livery  man  turned  up  on  the  following  day  and 
succeeded  in  extracting  it ;  and  Flett  made  his  ap- 
pearance the  morning  after.  He  examined  the 
wounded  animal. 

"  It  may  have  been  done  by  accident;  but,  if  so,  it's 
curious  the  beast  should  have  been  hit  close  to  a  place 
where  it  would  have  killed  him,"  he  remarked. 

"  What's  your  private  opinion?  "  George  asked. 

The  constable  smiled. 

"  As  we  haven't  gone  very  far  yet,  I'll  reserve  it." 
He  fook  up  the  bullet.  "  Winchester  or  Marlin ; 
usual  caliber;  nothing  to  be  made  of  that.  Now  let's 
go  and  take  a  look  at  the  place  where  the  shot  was 
fired." 

They  traced  back  the  path  of  the  wounded  beast 
from  the  spot  where  Grierson  had  found  it,  by  the  red 
splashes  that  here  and  there  stained  the  short  grass 
of  the  unfenced  prairie.  At  last  they  stopped  where 
the  ground  was  broken  by  a  few  low  sandy  ridges 
sprinkled  with  small  birches  and  poplars,  and  Flett 
pointed  to  the  mark  of  hoofs  in  a  strip  of  almost  bare, 
light  soil. 

"  This  is  where  he  was  hit,"  he  said.     "  You  can  see 


GEORGE  FACES  DISASTER          131 

how  he  started  off,  going  as  hard  as  he  could.     Next, 
we've  got  to  find  the  spot  the  man  fired  from." 

It  proved  difficult.  The  dry  grass  revealed  nothing, 
and  they  vainly  searched  several  of  the  neighboring 
hillocks,  where  it  grew  less  thickly.  Scorching  sun- 
shine beat  down  on  them  and  a  strong  breeze  blew 
the  sand  about.  At  length  Flett  pointed  to  a  few 
half-obliterated  footprints  on  the  bare  summit  of  a 
small  rise. 

'  The  fellow  stopped  here  with  his  feet  well  apart. 
He'd  stand  like  that  while  he  put  up  his  gun.  Sit 
down  and  smoke  while  I  copy  these  marks." 

He  proceeded  to  do  so  carefully,  having  brought 
some  paper  from  the  homestead. 

"  Have  you  any  reason  for  thinking  it  was  a  stand- 
ing shot  he  took?  "  George  asked. 

"  I  haven't ;  I  wish  I  had.  Quite  a  lot  depends  upon 
his  position." 

George  nodded. 

"  So  it  struck  me.  We'll  look  round  for  some  more 
conclusive  signs  when  you  have  finished." 

Before  this  happened,  Flora  Grant  rode  up. 

"  I  was  going  back  from  Forster's  when  I  noticed 
you  moving  about  the  hills,"  she  explained.  "  I  made 
this  round  to  find  out  what  you  were  doing." 

George  told  her,  and  her  sympathy  was  obvious. 

"I'm  very  sorry;  but  my  father  warned  you,"  she 
said.  "  I'm  afraid  you're  finding  this  an  expensive 
campaign." 

"  I  can  put  up  with  it,  so  long  as  I  have  my  friends' 
support." 

"  I  think  you  can  count  on  that,"  she  smiled.  "  But 
what  is  Flett's  theory?" 


132  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"If  he  has  one,  he's  clever  at  hiding  it,"  Edgar 
broke  in ;  "  but  I'm  doubtful.  In  my  opinion,  he 
knows  the  value  of  the  professional  air  of  mystery." 

"  When  I  see  any  use  in  it,  I  can  talk,"  retorted 
Flett.  "What's  your  notion,  Mr.  Lansing?  You 
don't  agree  that  the  fellow  shot  your  beast  from 
here?" 

"  No,"  answered  George.  "Of  course,  there  are 
only  two  explanations  of  the  thing,  and  the  first  is 
that  it  was  an  accident  In  that  case,  the  fellow  must 
have  been  out  after  antelope  or  cranes." 

"There's  an  objection:  it's  close  season;  though  I 
wouldn't  count  too  much  on  that.  You  farmers  aren't 
particular  when  there's  nobody  around.  Now,  it's 
possible  that  a  man  who'd  been  creeping  up  on  an 
antelope  would  work  in  behind  this  rise  and  take  a 
quick  shot,  standing,  when  he  reached  the  top  of  it. 
If  so,  I  guess  he'd  have  his  eyes  only  on  what  he 
was  firing  at.  Suppose  he  missed,  and  your  beast 
happened  to  be  in  line  with  him  ?  " 

Flora  smiled. 

"  It's  not  convincing,  Mr.  Flett.  Seen  from  here, 
the  bull  would  be  in  the  open,  conspicuous  against 
white  grass  and  sand." 

"  I  didn't  say  the  thing  was  likely.  Won't  you  go 
on,  Mr  Lansing?  " 

"  The  other  explanation  is  that  the  fellow  meant  to 
kill  or  mark  the  bull ;  the  place  where  it  was  hit  points 
to  the  former.  If  that  was  his  intention,  he'd  lie  down 
or  kneel  to  get  a  steadier  aim.  We  had  better  look 
for  the  spot." 

They  spent  some  time  before  Flett  thought  he  had 
found  it. 


GEORGE  FACES  DISASTER         133 

n  Somebody  lay  down  here,  and  the  bull  would  be 
up  against  a  background  of  poplar  scrub,"  he  said. 
"  I'll  measure  off  the  distance  and  make  a  plan." 

He  counted  his  paces,  and  had  set  to  work  with  his 
notebook,  when  Flora  interrupted. 

"  Wouldn't  a  sketch  be  better?  Give  me  a  sheet  of 
paper ;  and  has  anybody  another  pencil  ?  " 

George  gave  her  one,  and  after  walking  up  and 
down  and  standing  for  a  few  moments  on  a  low 
mound,  she  chose  a  position  and  began  the  sketch.  It 
was  soon  finished,  but  it  depicted  the  scene  with  dis- 
tinctness, with  the  bull  standing  in  the  open  a  little 
to  one  side  of  the  clump  of  scrub.  George  started  as 
he  saw  that  she  had  roughly  indicated  the  figure  of  a 
man  lying  upon  the  little  mound  with  a  rifle  in  his 
hand.  It  struck  him  that  she  was  right. 

"  It's  a  picture,"  said  the  constable;  "but  why  did 
you  put  that  fellow  yonder  ?  " 

"  Come  and  see." 

They  followed  her  to  the  mound,  and  after  an  in- 
spection of  it,  Flett  nodded. 

"  You'd  make  a  mighty  smart  tracker,  Miss  Grant. 
I  was  against  this  mound  being  the  firing  place,  be- 
cause, to  get  to  it,  the  fellow  would  have  to  come 
out  into  the  open." 

"  Would  that  count  ?     It  was  a  bull  he  was  after." 

"  It  was,"  Flett  agreed.     "  This  fixes  the  thing." 

George  looked  at  him  meaningly. 

"  Have  you  made  up  your  mind  about  anything 
else?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Flett.  "  It  was  done  with  malicious 
mischief.  If  a  poor  white  or  an  Indian  meant  to  kill  a 
beast  for  meat,  he  wouldn't  pick  a  bull  worth  a  pile 


134  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

of  money,  at  least  while  there  was  common  beef 
stock  about." 

"  Then  what  do  you  mean  to  do?  " 

Flett  smiled. 

"  Sooner  or  later,  I'm  going  to  put  handcuffs  on  the 
man  who  did  this  thing.  If  you'll  give  me  the  sketch, 
Miss  Grant,  I'll  take  it  along." 

Flora  handed  it  to  him,  and  he  and  Edgar  went 
away  shortly  afterward,  leaving  George  with  the  girl. 
She  sat  still,  looking  down  at  him  when  he  had  helped 
her  to  the  saddle. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  have  a  good  many  difficulties  to 
face,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  assented  George.  "  A  dry  summer  is  bad 
for  wheat  on  my  light  soil,  and  that  is  why  I  thought 
of  going  in  for  stock."  He  paused  with  a  rueful  smile. 
"  It  doesn't  promise  to  be  a  great  improvement,  if 
I'm  to  have  my  best  beasts  shot." 

She  pointed  to  the  west.  The  grass  about  them  was 
still  scorched  with  fierce  sunshine,  but  leaden  cloud- 
masses,  darkly  rolled  together  with  a  curious  bluish 
gleam  in  them,  covered  part  of  the  sky. 

"  This  time  it  will  rain,"  she  said.  "  We  will  be 
fortunate  if  we  get  no  more  than  that.  Try  to  re- 
member, Mr.  Lansing,  that  bad  seasons  are  not  the 
rule  in  western  Canada,  and  one  good  one  wipes  out 
the  results  of  several  lean  years." 

Then  she  rode  away,  and  George  joined  Edgar.  He 
felt  that  he  had  been  given  a  warning.  On  reaching 
home,  he  harnessed  a  team  and  drove  off  to  a  sloo 
to  haul  in  hay,  but  while  he  worked  he  cast  anxious 
glances  at  the  clouds.  They  rolled  on  above  him  in 
an  endless  procession,  opening  out  to  emit  a  passing 


GEORGE  FACES  DISASTER         135 

blaze  of  sunshine,  and  closing  in  again.  The  horses 
were  restless,  he  could  hardly  get  them  to  stand;  the 
grasses  stirred  and  rustled  in  a  curious  manner;  and 
even  the  little  gophers  that  scurried  away  from  the 
wagon  wheels  displayed  an  unusual  and  feverish  activ- 
ity. Yet  there  was  not  a  drop  of  rain,  and  the  man 
toiled  on  in  savage  impatience,  wondering  whether  he 
must  once  more  resign  himself  to  see  the  promised 
deluge  pass  away. 

It  was  a  question  of  serious  import.  A  night's 
heavy  rain  would  consolidate  the  soil  that  blew  about 
with  every  breeze,  revive  the  suffering  wheat  and 
strengthen  its  abraded  stalks  against  any  further  at- 
tack by  the  driving  sand.  Indeed,  he  thought  it  would 
place  the  crop  in  security. 

He  came  home  for  supper,  jaded,  dusty,  and  morose, 
and  found  that  he  could  scarcely  eat  when  he  sat  down 
to  the  meal.  He  could  not  rest  when  it  was  over, 
though  he  was  aching  from  heavy  toil;  nor  could  he 
fix  his  attention  on  any  new  task;  and  when  dusk 
was  getting  near  he  strolled  up  and  down  before  the 
homestead  with  Edgar.  There  was  a  change  in  the 
looks  of  the  buildings  —  all  that  could  be  done  had 
been  effected  —  but  there  was  also  a  change  in  the 
man.  He  was  leaner,  his  face  was  getting  thin,  and 
he  looked  worn;  but  he  maintained  a  forced  tran- 
quillity. 

The  sky  was  barred  with  cloud  now;  the  great 
breadth  of  grain  had  faded  to  a  leaden  hue,  the  prairie 
to  shadowy  gray.  The  wind  had  dropped,  the  air  was 
tense  and  still ;  a  strange,  impressive  silence  brooded 
over  everything. 

Presently  Edgar  looked  up  at  the  clouds. 


136  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  They  must  break  at  last,"  he  said.  "  One  can't 
help  thinking  of  what  they  hold  —  endless  carloads  of 
grain,  wads  of  dollar  bills  for  the  storekeepers,  pros- 
perity for  three  big  provinces.  It's  much  the  same 
weather  right  along  to  the  Rockies." 

"  I  wasn't  considering  the  three  provinces,"  said 
George. 

"  No,"  retorted  Edgar.  "  Your  attention  was  con- 
fined to  the  improvement  the  rain  would  make  in 
Sylvia-  Marston's  affairs.  You're  looking  forward  to 
sending  her  a  big  check  after  harvest." 

"  So  far,  it  has  looked  more  like  facing  a  big  def- 
icit." 

"  You  mean  your  facing  it." 

George  frowned. 

"  Sylvia  has  nothing  except  this  land." 

"  It  strikes  me  she's  pretty  fortunate,  in  one  way. 
You  find  the  working  capital  and  bear  the  loss,  if  there 
is  one.  I  wonder  what  arrangements  you  made  about 
dividing  a  surplus." 

"  That,"  said  George,  "  is  a  thing  I've  no  intention 
of  discussing  with  anybody  but  my  co-trustee." 

Edgar  smiled ;  he  had  hardly  expected  to  elicit  much 
information  upon  the  point,  having  failed  to  do  so  once 
or  twice  already. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  believe  we'll  see  the  rain  before 
an  hour  has  passed." 

Soon  after  he  had  spoken,  a  flash  leaped  from  over- 
head and  the  prairie  was  flooded  with  dazzling  ra- 
diance. It  was  followed  by  a  roll  of  thunder,  and  a 
roar  as  the  rain  came  down.  For  a  few  moments 
the  dust  whirled  up  and  there  was  a  strong  smell  of 
earth;  then  the  air  was  filled  with  falling  water. 


GEORGE  FACES  DISASTER          137 

George  stood  still  in  the  deluge,  rejoicing,  while  the 
great  drops  lashed  his  upturned  face,  until  Edgar 
laughingly  pushed  him  toward  the  house. 

"  As  I'm  wet  through,  I  think  I'll  go  to  bed.  At 
last,  you  can  rest  content." 

George,  following  his  example,  lay  down  with  a 
deep  sense  of  thankfulness.  His  cares  had  gone,  the 
flood  that  roared  against  the  board  walls  had  banished 
them.  Now  that  relief  had  come,  he  felt  strangely 
weary,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  was  sound  asleep. 
He  did  not  hear  the  thunder,  which  broke  out  again, 
nor  feel  the  house  shake  in  the  rush  of  icy  wind  that 
suddenly  followed;  the  ominous  rattle  on  roof  and 
walls,  different  from  and  sharper  than  the  lashing  of 
the  rain,  began  and  died  away  unnoticed  by  him.  He 
was  wrapped  in  the  deep,  healing  slumber  that  follows 
the  slackening  of  severe  mental  and  bodily  strain;  he 
knew  nothing  of  the  banks  of  ragged  ice-lumps  that 
lay  melting  to  lee  of  the  building. 

It  was  very  cold  the  next  morning,  though  the  sun 
was  rising  above  the  edge  of  the  scourged  plain,  when 
Edgar,  partly  dressed  and  wearing  wet  boots  and  leg- 
gings, came  into  the  room  and  looked  down  at  George 
compassionately. 

The  brown  face  struck  him  as  looking  worn; 
George  had  flung  off  part  of  the  coverings,  and  there 
was  something  that  suggested  limp  relaxation  in  his 
attitude;  but  Edgar  knew  that  his  comrade  must  bear 
his  load  again. 

"  George,"  he  said,  touching  him,  "  you  had  better 
get  up." 

The  man  stirred,  and  looking  at  him  became  at  once 
intent  as  he  saw  his  face. 


138  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Ah ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  Something  else  gone 
wrong? " 

Edgar  nodded. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  he  answered  simply.  "  Put  on  your 
things  and  come  out.  You  had  better  get  it  over 
with." 

In  three  or  four  minutes  George  left  the  house. 
Holding  himself  steadily  in  hand,  he  walked  through 
the  drenched  grass  toward  the  wheat.  On  reaching 
it,  he  set  his  lips  tight  and  stood  very  still.  The 
great  field  of  grain  had  gone;  short,  severed  stalks, 
half-buried  in  a  mass  of  rent  and  torn-up  blades,  cov- 
ered the  wide  stretch  of  soil  where  the  wheat  had  been. 
The  crop  had  been  utterly  wiped  out  by  the  merciless 
hail.  Edgar  did  not  venture  to  speak;  any  sympathy 
he  could  express  would  have  looked  like  mockery ;  and 
for  a  while  there  was  strained  silence.  Then  George 
showed  of  what  tough  fiber  he  was  made. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  it  has  to  be  faced.  After  this, 
we'll  try  another  plan;  more  stock,  for  one  thing." 
He  paused  and  then  resumed :  "  Tell  Grierson  to 
hurry  breakfast.  I  must  drive  in  to  the  Butte; 
there's  a  good  deal  to  be  done." 

Edgar  moved  away,  feeling  relieved.  George,  in- 
stead of  despairing,  was  considering  new  measures. 
He  was  far  from  beaten  yet. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SYLVIA   SEEKS   AMUSEMENT 

IT  was  a  fine  September  afternoon  and  Sylvia  re- 
clined pensively  in  a  canvas  hammock  on  Herbert 
Lansing's  lawn  with  one  or  two  opened  letters  in  her 
hand.  Bright  sunshine  lay  upon  the  grass,  but  it  was 
pleasantly  cool  in  the  shadow  of  the  big  copper  beech. 
A  neighboring  border  glowed  with  autumn  flowers: 
ribands  of  asters,  spikes  of  crimson  gladiolus,  ranks 
of  dahlias.  Across  the  lawn  a  Virginia  creeper  draped 
the  house  with  vivid  tints.  The  scene  had  nothing  of 
the  grim  bareness  of  the  western  prairie  of  which 
Sylvia  was  languidly  thinking ;  her  surroundings  shone 
with  strong  color,  and  beyond  them  a  peaceful  English 
landscape  stretched  away.  She  could  look  out  upon 
heavily-massed  trees,  yellow  fields  with  sheaves  in 
them,  and  the  winding  streak  of  a  flashing  river. 

Yet  Sylvia  was  far  from  satisfied.  The  valley  was 
getting  dull;  she  needed  distraction,  and  her  letters 
suggested  both  the  means  of  getting  it  and  a  difficuky. 
She  wore  black,  but  it  had  an  artistic,  almost  coquet- 
tish, effect,  and  the  big  hat  became  her  well,  in  spite 
of  its  simple  trimming.  Sylvia  bestowed  a  good  deal 
of  thought  upon  her  appearance. 

After  a  while  Mrs.  Lansing  came  out  and  joined 
her. 

"  Is  there  any  news  in  your  letters?  "  she  asked. 

139 


140  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Yes,"  answered  Sylvia ;  "  there's  one  from  George 
—  it's  a  little  disappointing,  but  you  can  read  it.  As 
usual,  he's  laconic." 

George's  curtness  was  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  afraid  of  saying  too  much,  but  Sylvia 
carelessly  handed  the  letter  to  her  companion. 

"  After  all,  he  shows  a  nice  feeling,"  Mrs.  Lansing 
remarked.  "  He  seems  to  regret  very  much  his  in- 
ability to  send  you  a  larger  check." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Sylvia  with  a  petulant  air. 

"  He  points  out  that  it  has  been  a  bad  season  and 
he  has  lost  his  crop." 

"  Bad  seasons  are  common  in  western  Canada ;  I've 
met  farmers  who  seemed  to  thrive  on  them." 

"  No  doubt  they  didn't  do  so  all  at  once." 

"  I  dare  say  that's  true,"  Sylvia  agreed.  "  It's  very 
likely  that  if  I  give  him  plenty  of  time,  George  will 
get  everything  right  —  he's  one  of  the  plodding,  per- 
sistent people  who  generally  succeed  in  the  end  —  but 
what  use  will  there  be  in  that?  I'm  not  growing 
younger  —  I  want  some  enjoyment  now!"  She 
spread  out  her  hands  with  ax  gesture  that  appealed  for 
sympathy.  "  One  gets  so  tired  of  petty  economy  and 
self-denial." 

"  But  George  and  Herbert  arranged  that  you  should 
have  a  sufficient  allowance." 

"  Sufficient,"  said  Sylvia,  "  is  a  purely  relative  term. 
So  much  depends  upon  one's  temperament,  doesn't  it? 
Perhaps  I  am  a  little  extravagant,  and  that's  why  I'm 
disappointed." 

"  After  all,  you  have  very  few  necessary  expenses." 

Sylvia  laughed. 

"  It's  having  only  the  necessary  ones  that  makes  it 


SYLVIA  SEEKS  AMUSEMENT       141 

so  dull.  Now,  I've  thought  of  going  to  stay  a  while 
with  Susan  Kettering;  there's  a  letter  from  her,  ask- 
ing when  I'll  come." 

Mrs.  Lansing  was  a  lady  of  strict  conventional 
views,  and  she  showed  some  disapproval. 

"  But  you  can  hardly  make  visits  yet! " 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  can't  visit  Susan.  She's  a  rel- 
ative, and  it  isn't  as  if  she  were  entertaining  a  number 
of  people.  She  says  she's  very  quiet;  she  has  hardly 
asked  anybody,  only  one  or  two  intimate  friends." 

"  She'll  have  three  or  four  men  down  for  the  par- 
tridge shooting." 

"  After  all,"  said  Sylvia,  "  I  can't  make  her  send 
them  away.  You  have  once  or  twice  had  men  from 
town  here." 

"  Susan  leads  a  very  different  life  from  mine,"  Mrs. 
Lansing  persisted.  "  She's  a  little  too  fond  of  amuse- 
ment, and  I  don't  approve  of  all  her  friends."  She 
paused  as  an  idea  struck  her.  "  Is  Captain  Bland  go- 
ing there  for  the  shooting  ?  " 

"  I  really  can't  tell  you.  Is  there  any  reason  why 
she  shouldn't  invite  him  ?  " 

Mrs.  Lansing  would  have  preferred  that  Sylvia 
should  not  see  so  much  of  Bland  as  she  was  likely  to 
do  if  she  stayed  in  the  same  house  with  him,  though 
she  knew  of  nothing  in  particular  to  his  discredit.  He 
had  served  without  distinction  in  two  campaigns,  he 
lived  extravagantly,  and  was  supposed  to  be  something 
of  a  philanderer.  Indeed,  not  long  ago,  an  announce- 
ment of  his  engagement  to  a  lady  of  station  had  been 
confidently  expected ;  but  the  affair  had,  for  some  un- 
known reason,  suddenly  fallen  through.  Mrs.  Lan- 
sing was  puzzled  about  him.  If  the  man  were  look- 


142  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

ing  for  a  wealthy  wife,  why  should  he  be  attracted, 
as  she  thought  he  was,  by  Sylvia,  who  had  practically 
nothing. 

"  I'd  really  rather  have  you  remain  with  us ;  but 
of  course  I  can't  object  to  your  going,"  she  said. 

"  I  knew  you  would  be  nice  about  it,"  Sylvia  ex- 
claimed. "  I  must  have  a  talk  with  Herbert ;  you  said 
he  would  be  home  this  evening." 

Lansing's  business  occasionally  prevented  his  nightly 
return  from  the  nearest  large  town,  but  he  arrived 
some  hours  later,  and  after  dinner  Sylvia  found  him  in 
his  smoking-room.  He  looked  up  with  a  smile  when 
she  came  in,  for  their  relations  were  generally  pleasant. 
They  understood  each  other,  though  this  did  not  lead 
to  mutual  confidence  or  respect. 

"Well?"  he  said. 

Sylvia  sat  down  in  an  easy  chair,  adopting,  as  she 
invariably  did,  a  becoming  pose,  and  handed  him 
George's  letter. 

"  He  hasn't  sent  you  very  much,"  Herbert  re- 
marked. 

"  No,"  said  Sylvia,  "  that's  the  difficulty." 

"  So  I  anticipated.     You're  not  economical." 

Sylvia  laughed. 

"  I  won't  remind  you  of  your  failings.  You  have 
one  virtue  —  you  can  be  liberal  when  it  suits  you ;  and 
you're  my  trustee." 

Lansing's  rather  fleshy,  smooth-shaven  face  grew 
thoughtful,  but  Sylvia  continued : 

"  I'm  going  to  Susan's,  and  I  really  need  a  lot  of 
new  clothes." 

"  For  a  week  or  two's  visit  ?  " 

"  I  may,  perhaps,  go  on  somewhere  else  afterward." 


SYLVIA  SEEKS  AMUSEMENT       143 

"  I  wonder  whether  you  thought  it  necessary  to  tell 
Muriel  so  ?  " 

Sylvia  sighed. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  didn't.  I  can  hardly  expect  Muriel 
to  quite  understand  or  sympathize.  She  has  you,  and 
the  flowers  she's  so  fond  of,  and  quiet  friends  of  the 
kind  she  likes;  while  it's  so  different  with  me.  Be- 
sides, I  was  never  meant  for  retirement." 

"  That/'  laughed  Lansing,  "  is  very  true." 

"  Of  course,"  Sylvia  went  on ;  "I  shall  be  very 
quiet,  but  there  are  things  one  really  has  to  take  part 
in." 

"  Bridge  is  expensive  unless  you're  unusually  lucky, 
or  an  excellent  player,"  Lansing  suggested.  "  How- 
ever, it  would  be  more  to  the  purpose  if  you  men- 
tioned what  is  the  least  you  could  manage  with." 

Sylvia  told  him,  and  he  knit  his  brows. 

"  Money's  tight  with  me  just  now,"  he  objected. 

"  You  know  it's  only  on  account.  George  will  do 
ever  so  much  better  next  year;  and  I  dare  say,  if  I 
pressed  him,  he  would  send  another  remittance." 

"  His  letter  indicates  that  he'd  find  it  difficult." 

"  George  wouldn't  mind  that.  He  rather  likes  do- 
ing things  that  are  hard,  and  it's  comforting  to  think 
that  self-denial  doesn't  cost  him  much.  I'm  thankful 
I  have  him  to  look  after  the  farm." 

Lansing  regarded  her  with  ironical  amusement;  he 
knew  what  her  gratitude  was  worth. 

"  Yes,"  he  agreed  significantly,  "  George  seldom  ex- 
pects anything  for  himself.  I'm  afraid  I'm  different 
in  that  respect." 

Sylvia  sat  silent  for  a  few  moments,  because  she 
understood.  If  Herbert  granted  the  favor,  he  would 


144  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

look  for  something  in  return,  though  she  had  no  idea 
what  this  would  be.  She  was  conscious  of  a  certain 
hesitation,  but  she  did  not  allow  it  to  influence  her. 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,"  she  rejoined  with  a  smile. 
"  Can't  you  let  me  have  a  check  ?  That  will  make 
you  my  creditor,  but  I'm  not  afraid  you'll  be  very  ex- 
acting." 

"  Well,"  was  the  response,  "  I  will  see  what  I  can 
do." 

She  went  out  and  Lansing  filled  his  pipe  with  a  feel- 
ing of  satisfaction.  He  was  not  running  much  risk 
in  parting  with  the  money,  and  Sylvia  might  prove 
useful  by  and  by. 

Sylvia  left  Brantholme  shortly  afterward  and, 
somewhat  to  her  annoyance,  found  Ethel  West  a  guest 
at  the  house  she  visited.  Ethel  had  known  Dick;  she 
was  a  friend  of  George's,  and,  no  doubt,  in  regular 
communication  with  her  brother  in  Canada.  It  was 
possible  that  she  might  allude  to  Sylvia's  doings  when 
she  wrote;  but  there  was  some  consolation  in  remem- 
bering that  George  was  neither  an  imaginative  nor  a 
censorious  person. 

Sylvia  had  spent  a  delightful  week  in  her  new  sur- 
roundings, when  she  descended  the  broad  stairway  one 
night  with  a  shawl  upon  her  arm  and  an  elegantly 
bound  little  notebook  in  her  hand.  A  handsome, 
dark-haired  man  whose  bearing  proclaimed  him  a  sol- 
dier walked  at  her  side.  Eland's  glance  was  quick 
and  direct,  but  he  had  a  genial  smile  and  his  manners 
were  usually  characterized  by  a  humorous  boldness. 
Still,  it  was  difficult  to  find  fault  with  them,  and  Sylvia 
had  acquiesced  in  his  rather  marked  preference  for  her 


SYLVIA  SEEKS  AMUSEMENT       145 

society.  She  was,  however,  studying  the  little  book  as 
she  went  down  the  shallow  steps  and  her  expression 
indicated  dissatisfaction. 

"  I'm  afraid  it  was  my  fault,  though  you  had  very 
bad  luck,"  said  the  man,  noticing  her  look.  "  I'm 
dreadfully  sorry." 

"  It  was  your  fault,"  Sylvia  rejoined,  with  some 
petulance.  "  When  I  held  my  best  hand  I  was  de- 
ceived by  your  lead.  Besides,  as  I  told  the  others,  I 
didn't  mean  to  play;  you  shouldn't  have  come  down 
and  persuaded  me." 

Bland  considered.  On  the  whole  Sylvia  played  a 
good  game,  but  she  was  obviously  a  little  out  of  prac- 
tise, for  his  lead  had  really  been  the  correct  one,  though 
she  had  not  understood  it.  This,  however,  was  of 
no  consequence;  it  was  her  concluding  words  that 
occupied  his  attention.  They  had,  he  thought,  been 
spoken  with  a  full  grasp  of  their  significance ;  his  com- 
panion was  not  likely  to  be  guilty  of  any  ill-considered 
admission. 

'  Then  I'm  flattered  that  my  influence  goes  so  far, 
though  it's  perhaps  unlucky  in  the  present  instance," 
he  said  boldly.  "  I'll  own  that  I'm  responsible  for 
our  misfortunes  and  I'm  ready  to  take  the  conse- 
quences. Please  give  me  that  book." 

"  No,"  Sylvia  replied  severely.  "  I  feel  guilty  for 
playing  at  all,  but  the  line  must  be  drawn." 

"  Where  do  you  feel  inclined  to  draw  it  ?  " 

They  had  reached  the  hall  and  Sylvia  turned  and 
looked  at  him  directly,  but  with  a  trace  of  coquetry. 

"  At  allowing  a  comparative  stranger  to  meet  my 
losses,  if  I  must  be  blunt." 


146  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  The  arrangement  isn't  altogether  unusual.  In 
this  case,  it's  a  duty,  and  the  restriction  you  make 
doesn't  bar  me  out.  I'm  not  a  stranger." 

"  A  mere  acquaintance  then,"  said  Sylvia, 

"  That  won't  do  either.     It  doesn't  apply  to  me." 

"  Then  I'll  have  to  alter  the  classification."  She 
broke  into  a  soft  laugh.  "  It's  difficult  to  think  of  a 
term  to  fit;  would  you  like  to  suggest  something?  " 

Several  epithets  occurred  to  the  man,  but  he  feared 
to  make  too  rash  a  venture. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  would  you  object  to  —  confiden- 
tial friend?" 

Sylvia's  smile  seemed  to  taunt  him. 

"  Certainly ;  it  goes  too  far.  One  doesn't  become 
a  confidential  friend  in  a  very  limited  time." 

"  I've  known  it  happen  in  a  few  days." 

"  Friendships  of  that  kind  don't  last.  In  a  little 
while  you  find  you  have  been  deceived.  But  we  won't 
talk  of  these  things.  You  can't  have  the  book,  and 
I'm  going  out." 

He  held  up  the  shawl,  which  she  draped  about  her 
shoulders,  and  they  strolled  on  to  the  terrace.  The 
night  was  calm  and  pleasantly  cool ;  beyond  the  black 
line  of  hedge  across  the  lawn,  meadows  and  harvest 
fields,  with  rows  of  sheaves  that  cast  dark  shadows 
behind  them,  stretched  away  in  the  moonlight.  After 
a  while  Sylvia  stopped  and  leaned  upon  the  broad- 
topped  wall. 

"  It's  really  pretty,"  she  remarked. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Bland ;  "  it's  more  than  pretty. 
There's  something  in  it  that  rests  one.  I  sometimes 
wish  I  could  live  in  such  a  place  as  this  altogether." 

Sylvia  was  astonished,  because  she  saw  he  meant  it. 


SYLVIA  SEEKS  AMUSEMENT       147 

"  After  your  life,  you  would  get  horribly  tired  of  it 
in  three  months." 

"After  my  life?  Do  you  know  what  that  has 
been?" 

"  Race  meetings,  polo  matches,  hilarious  mess  din- 
ners." 

He  laughed,  rather  shortly. 

"  I  suppose  so ;  but  they're  not  the  only  army  duties. 
Some  of  the  rest  are  better,  abroad;  but  they're  fre- 
quently accompanied  by  semi-starvation,  scorching  heat 
or  stinging  cold,  and  fatigue ;  and  it  doesn't  seem  to  be 
the  rule  that  those  who  bear  the  heaviest  strain  are  re- 
membered when  promotion  comes." 

Sylvia  studied  him  attentively.  Bland  was  well  and 
powerfully  made,  and  she  liked  big  men  —  there  was 
more  satisfaction  in  bending  them  to  her  will.  In 
spite  of  his  careless  good-humor,  he  bore  a  certain 
stamp  of  distinction ;  he  was  an  excellent  card-player, 
he  could  dance  exceptionally  well,  and  she  had  heard 
him  spoken  of  as  a  first-class  shot.  It  was  unfortu- 
nate that  these  abilities  were  of  less  account  in  a  mili- 
tary career  than  she  had  supposed ;  but,  when  properly 
applied,  they  carried  their  possessor  some  distance  in 
other  fields.  What  was  as  much  to  the  purpose,  Bland 
appeared  to  be  wealthy,  and  took  a  leading  part  in 
social  amusements  and  activities. 

"  I  suppose  that  is  the  case,"  she  said  sympathet- 
ically, in  answer  to  his  last  remark.  "  You  have  never 
told  me  anything  about  your  last  campaign.  You 
were  injured  in  it,  were  you  not?  " 

The  man  had  his  weaknesses,  but  they  did  not  in- 
clude any  desire  to  retail  his  exploits  and  sufferings  to 
women's  ears.  He  would  not  speak  of  his  wounds, 


148  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

honorably  received,  or  of  perils  faced  as  carelessly  as 
he  had  exposed  his  men. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  But  that  was  bad  enough 
at  the  time,  and  the  rest  of  it  would  make  a  rather 
monotonous  tale." 

"  Surely  not !  "  protested  Sylvia.  "  The  thrill  and 
bustle  of  a  campaign  must  be  wonderfully  exciting." 

"  The  novelty  of  marching  steadily  in  a  blazing 
sun,  drinking  bad  water,  and  shoveling  trenches  half 
the  night,  soon  wears  off,"  he  said  with  a  short  laugh, 
and  changed  the  subject.  "  One  could  imagine  that 
you're  not  fond  of  quietness." 

Sylvia  shivered.  The  memory  of  her  two  years  in 
Canada  could  not  be  banished.  She  looked  back  on 
them  with  something  like  horror. 

"  No,"  she  declared ;  "  I  hate  it !     It's  deadly  to  me." 

"  Well,  I've  an  idea.  There's  the  Dene  Hall  charity 
gymkana  comes  off  in  a  few  days.  It's  semi-private, 
and  I  know  the  people ;  in  fact  they've  made  me  enter 
for  some  of  the  events.  It's  a  pretty  ride  to  the  place, 
and  I  can  get  a  good  car.  Will  you  come?  " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  ought,"  said  Sylvia,  with 
some  hesitation. 

"  Think  over  it,  anyway,"  he  begged  her. 

One  or  two  people  came  out,  and  when  somebody 
called  her  name  Sylvia  left  him,  without  promising. 
Bland  remained  leaning  on  the  wall  and  thinking  hard. 
Sylvia  strongly  attracted  him.  She  was  daintily 
pretty,  quick  of  comprehension,  and,  in  spite  of  her 
black  attire,  which  at  times  gave  her  a  forlorn  air 
that  made  him  compassionate,  altogether  charming. 
It  was,  however,  unfortunate  that  he  could  not  marry 
a  poor  wife,  and  he  knew  nothing  about  Sylvia's 


SYLVIA  SEEKS  AMUSEMENT       149 

means.  To  do  him  justice,  he  had  shrunk  from  any 
attempt  to  obtain  information  on  this  point;  but  he 
felt  that  it  would  have  to  be  made  before  things  went 
too  far.  His  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  Ethel 
West,  who  strolled  along  the  terrace  and  stopped  close 
at  hand. 

"  I  didn't  expect  to  find  you  wrapped  in  contem- 
plation," she  remarked. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I've  been  talking/' 

"  To  Mrs.  Marston  ?  She's  generally  considered 
entertaining." 

Bland  looked  at  her  with  a  smile.  He  liked  Ethel 
West.  She  was  blunt,  without  being  tactless,  and  her 
conversation  was  sometimes  piquant.  Moreover,  he 
remembered  that  Ethel  and  Sylvia  were  old  ac- 
quaintances. 

"  I  find  her  so,"  he  said.  "  Though  she  has  ob- 
viously had  trouble,  she's  very  bright.  It's  a  sign  of 
courage." 

"  In  Sylvia  Marston's  case,  it's  largely  a  reaction. 
She  spent  what  she  regards  as  two  harrowing  years  in 
Canada." 

"  After  all,  Canada  doesn't  seem  to  be  a  bad  place," 
said  Bland.  "  Two  of  my  friends,  who  left  the  Serv- 
ice, went  out  to  take  up  land  and  they  evidently  like 
it.  They  got  lots  of  shooting,  and  they've  started  a 
pack  of  hounds." 

Ethel  considered.  She  could  have  told  him  that 
Sylvia's  husband  had  gone  out  to  make  a  living,  and 
had  not  been  in  a  position  to  indulge  in  costly  amuse- 
ments, but  this  did  not  appear  advisable. 

"  I  don't  think  Marston  got  a  great  deal  of  sport," 
she  said.  "  He  had  too  much  to  do." 


150  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  A  big  place  to  look  after?  I  understand  it's  wise 
to  buy  up  all  the  land  you  can." 

Ethel's  idea  of  the  man's  views  in  respect  to  Sylvia 
was  confirmed.  He  was  obviously  giving  her  a  lead 
and  she  followed  it,  though  she  did  not  intend  to  en- 
lighten him. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered ;  "  that's  the  opinion  of  my 
brother,  who's  farming  there.  He  says  values  are 
bound  to  go  up  as  the  new  railroads  are  built,  and 
Marston  had  a  good  deal  of  land.  Sylvia  is  pru- 
dently keeping  every  acre  and  farming  as  much  as 
possible." 

She  saw  this  was  satisfactory  to  Bland,  and  she  had 
no  hesitation  in  letting  him  conclude  what  he  liked 
from  it.  It  was  not  her  part  to  caution  him,  and  it 
was  possible  that  if  no  other  suitor  appeared,  Sylvia 
might  fall  back  on  George,  which  was  a  risk  that  must 
be  avoided  at  any  cost.  Ethel  did  not  expect  to  gain 
anything  for  herself;  she  knew  that  George  had  never 
had  any  love  for  her ;  but  she  was  determined  that  he 
should  not  fall  into  Sylvia's  hands.  He  was  too  fine  a 
man,  in  many  ways,  to  be  thus  sacrificed. 

"  But  how  can  Mrs.  Marston  carry  on  the  farm  ?  " 
Bland  inquired. 

"  I  should  have  said  her  trustees  are  doing  so," 
Ethel  answered  carelessly.  "  One  of  them  went  out  to 
look  into  things  not  long  ago." 

Then  she  moved  away  and  left  Bland  with  one  diffi- 
culty that  had  troubled  him  removed. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

BLAND    GETS    ENTANGLED 

WHEN  Mrs.  Kettering  heard  of  Sylvia's  inten- 
tion to  attend  the  gymkana,  she  gave  her  con- 
sent, and  said  that,  as  she  had  an  invitation,  she  would 
make  up  a  party  to  go.  This  was  not  what  Bland 
required.  It  was,  however,  a  four-seated  car  that  he 
had  been  promised  the  use  of;  and  counting  Sylvia 
and  himself  and  the  driver,  there  was  only  one  place 
left.  While  he  was  wondering  to  whom  it  would  be 
best  to  offer  it,  Sylvia  thought  of  Ethel  West,  who 
had  announced  that  she  would  not  attend  the  func- 
tion. By  making  a  short  round,  they  could  pass 
through  a  market  town  of  some  importance. 

"  You  mentioned  that  you  wished  to  buy  some 
things ;  why  not  come  with  us  ?  "  she  said  to  Ethel. 
"  We  could  drop  you  going  out  and  call  for  you  com- 
ing home.  Susan  will  have  the  big  car  full,  so  she 
couldn't  take  you,  and  it's  a  long  drive  to  the  station 
and  the  trains  run  awkwardly." 

Sylvia's  motive  was  easy  to  discern,  but  Ethel 
agreed.  She  was,  on  the  whole,  inclined  to  pity  Cap- 
tain Bland ;  but  he  was  a  stranger  and  George  was  a 
friend.  If  Sylvia  must  choose  between  them,  it  would 
be  much  better  that  she  should  take  the  soldier.  For 
all  that,  Ethel  had  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that  she 
was  assisting  in  a  piece  of  treachery  when  she  set 


152  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

off  soon  after  lunch  on  a  fine  autumn  day ;  and  the  car 
had  gone  several  miles  before  she  began  to  enjoy  the 
ride. 

For  a  while  the  straight  white  road,  climbing  stead- 
ily, crossed  a  waste  of  moors.  The  dry  grass  gleamed 
gray  and  silver  among  the  russet  fern ;  rounded,  white- 
edged  clouds  floated,  scarcely  moving,  in  a  sky  of 
softest  blue.  The  upland  air  was  gloriously  fresh, 
and  the  speed  exhilarating. 

By  and  by  they  ran  down  into  a  narrow  dale  in  the 
depths  of  which  a  river  brawled  among  the  stones, 
and  climbed  a  long  ascent,  from  which  they  could  see 
a  moving  dust-cloud  indicating  that  Mrs.  Kettering's 
car  was  only  a  mile  or  two  behind.  After  that  there 
was  a  league  of  brown  heath,  and  then  they  sped  down 
to  a  wide,  wooded  valley,  in  the  midst  of  which  rose 
the  gray  walls  of  an  ancient  town.  On  reaching  it, 
Ethel  alighted  in  the  market-square,  hard  by  the  lofty 
abbey,  and  turned  to  Bland. 

"  I  have  one  or  two  calls  to  make  after  I've  finished 
shopping,  but  if  it  takes  longer  than  I  expected  or 
you  can't  get  here  in  time,  I'll  go  back  by  train,"  she 
said.  "  In  that  case,  you  must  bring  me  home  from 
the  station." 

Bland  promised,  and  Ethel  watched  the  car  with  a 
curious  expression  until  it  vanished  under  a  time-worn 
archway.  She  was  vexed  with  herself  for  playing 
into  Sylvia's  hands,  though  she  had  only  done  so  in 
what  she  regarded  as  George's  interest.  If  Sylvia 
married  Bland,  the  blow  would  no  doubt  be  a  heavy 
one  to  George,  but  it  would  be  better  for  him  in  the 
end. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  car  sped  on  up  the  valley  until 


BLAND  GETS  ENTANGLED         153 

it  reached  an  ancient  house  built  on  to  a  great  square 
tower,  where  Bland  was  welcomed  by  a  lady  of  high 
importance  in  the  district.  Afterward  he  was  famil- 
iarly greeted  by  several  of  her  guests,  which  Sylvia, 
who  had  strong  ambitions,  duly  noticed;  these  people 
occupied  a  different  station  from  the  one  in  which 
she  had  hitherto  moved.  When  Bland  was  called  away 
from  her,  she  was  shown  to  a  place  at  some  distance 
from  Mrs.  Kettering's  party,  and  she  sat  down  and 
looked  about  with  interest.  From  the  smooth  lawn 
and  still  glowing  borders  before  the  old  gray  house,  a 
meadow  ran  down  to  the  river  that  wandered,  gleam- 
ing, through  the  valley,  and  beyond  it  the  brown  moors 
cut  against  the  clear  blue  sky.  In  the  meadow,  a  large, 
oval  space  was  lined  with  groups  of  smartly-dressed 
people,  and  in  its  midst  rose  trim  pavilions  outside 
which  grooms  stood  holding  beautiful  glossy  horses. 
Everything  was  prettily  arranged;  the  scene,  with 
its  air  of  gayety,  appealed  to  Sylvia,  and  she  enjoyed 
it  keenly,  though  she  was  now  and  then  conscious  of  her 
somber  attire. 

Then  the  entertainment  began,  and  she  admitted  that 
Bland,  finely-mounted,  was  admirable.  He  took  his 
part  in  several  competitions,  and  through  them  all 
displayed  a  genial  good-humor  and  easy  physical  grace. 
He  had  for  the  most  part  younger  men  as  antagonists, 
but  Sylvia  thought  that  none  of  them  could  compare 
with  him  in  manner  or  bearing. 

After  a  while  Sylvia  noticed  with  a  start  of  surprise 
and  annoyance  that  Herbert  Lansing  was  strolling  to- 
ward her.  He  took  an  unoccupied  chair  at  her  side. 

"  What  brought  you  here  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  That,"  he  said,  "  is  easily  explained.     I  got  a  kind 


156  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Bland  with  some  details  that  Sylvia  found  unintelligi- 
ble. 

"  You  must  get  her  along  another  mile ;  then  you 
can  go  back  on  a  bicycle  for  what  you  want,"  Bland 
told  him,  and  turned  to  Sylvia.  "  We'll  be  delayed 
for  an  hour  or  so,  but  he  can  leave  word  for  Miss 
West,  and  there's  an  inn  not  far  off  where  they'll  give 
us  tea  while  we're  waiting." 

They  reached  it  after  turning  into  another  road, 
though  the  car  made  alarming  noises  during  the  jour- 
ney. Sylvia  viewed  the  old  building  with  appreciation. 
It  stood,  longtand  low  and  cleanly  white-washed,  on 
the  brink  of  a  deep  ghyll  filled  with  lichened  boulders 
and  russet  ferns,  with  a  firwood  close  behind  it,  and 
in  front  a  wide  vista  of  moors  and  fells  that  stood 
out  darkly  blue  against  the  evening  light.  Near  the 
stone  porch,  a  rustic  table  stood  beside  a  row  of  tall 
red  hollyhocks. 

"  It's  a  charming  spot,"  Sylvia  exclaimed.  "  Can't 
we  have  tea  outside?  " 

Bland  ordered  it  and  they  sat  down  to  a  neatly- 
served  meal.  The  evening  was  warm  and  very  still 
and  clear.  A  rattle  of  wheels  reached  them  from 
somewhere  far  down  the  road  and  they  could  hear  the 
faint  splash  of  water  in  the  depths  of  the  ravine. 

"  This  is  really  delightful,"  murmured  Sylvia,  when 
the  table  had  been  cleared.  "  I  like  the  quietness  of 
the  country  when  it  comes  as  a  contrast,  after,  for 
example,  such  an  afternoon  as  we  have  spent." 

"  Then  you're  not  sorry  you  came  ?  " 

"  Sorry  ?  You  wouldn't  suggest  it,  if  you  knew 
how  dull  my  days  often  are.  But  I  mustn't  be  dole- 
ful. You  may  smoke,  if  you  like." 


BLAND  GETS  ENTANGLED         157 

Bland  did  not  particularly  wish  to  smoke,  but  he 
lighted  a  cigarette.  It  seemed  to  banish  formality,  to 
place  them  on  more  familiar  terms. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  the  car?"  Sylvia  asked. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  tell  you.  It  can't  be  got  along 
without  something  the  man  has  gone  back  for." 

"  They  do  stop  sometimes.  Is  this  one  in  the  habit 
of  doing  so?  " 

"  I  can't  say,  as  it  isn't  mine.     Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Oh !  "  said  Sylvia,  "  I  had  my  suspicions.  The 
man  didn't  seem  in  the  least  astonished  or  annoyed, 
for  one  thing.  Then  it  broke  down  in  such  a  conveni- 
ent place." 

Bland  laughed;  her  boldness  appealed  to  him. 

"Well,"  he  declared,  "I'm  perfectly  innocent; 
though  I  can't  pretend  I'm  sorry." 

"  You  felt  you  had  to  say  that." 

"  No,"  he  declared,  with  a  direct  glance;  "  I  meant 
it." 

Sylvia  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  glanced  appre- 
ciatively at  the  moor. 

"  After  all,"  she  said,  "  it's  remarkably  pretty  here, 
and  a  change  is  nice.  Ill  confess  that  I  find  Susan's 
friends  a  little  boring." 

The  implication  was  that  she  preferred  Eland's  so- 
ciety, and  he  was  gratified. 

"  That  struck  me  some  time  ago,"  he  rejoined.  "  I 
wonder  if  you  can  guess  why  I  thought  it  worth  while 
to  put  up  with  them?" 

Sylvia  smiled  as  she  looked  at  him.  She  liked  the 
man;  she  thought  that  he  had  a  good  deal  she  valued 
to  offer  her ;  but  as  yet  she  desired  only  his  captivation. 
She  must  not  allow  him  to  go  too  far. 


158  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  You  might  have  had  a  number  of  motives,"  she 
said  carelessly.  "  I  don't  feel  much  curiosity  about 
them." 

Bland  bore  the  rebuff  good-humoredly.  Patience 
was  one  of  his  strong  points,  and  since  his  conversa- 
tion with  Ethel  West  on  the  terrace  he  had  made  up 
his  mind.  In  arriving  at  a  decision,  the  man  was  hon- 
est and  ready  to  make  some  sacrifice.  He  had  been 
strongly  impressed  by  Sylvia  on  their  first  meeting,  but 
he  had  realized  that  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  marry 
her  unless  she  had  some  means.  Hitherto  he  had 
found  it  difficult  to  meet  his  expenses,  which  were 
large.  He  did  not  believe  now  that  Sylvia  was  rich, 
and  he  had  seen  enough  of  her  to  suspect  that  she  was 
extravagant,  but  this  did  not  deter  him.  She  had  un- 
doubtedly some  possessions,  and  he  was  prepared  to 
retrench  and  deny  himself  a  number  of  costly  pleas- 
ures. Indeed,  he  had  once  or  twice  thought  of  leaving 
the  army. 

"  Then  I  won't  force  an  explanation  on  you,"  he 
said,  and  lighting  another  cigarette,  lazily  watched  her 
and  tried  to  analyze  her  charm. 

He  failed  to  do  so.  Sylvia  was  a  born  coquette,  and 
most  dangerous  in  that  her  power  of  attraction  was 
natural,  and  as  a  rule  she  appealed  to  the  better  and 
more  chivalrous  feelings  of  her  victims.  Fragile,  and 
delicately  pretty,  she  looked  as  if  she  needed  some  one 
to  shelter  and  defend  her  from  all  troubles.  Bland 
decided  that,  although  she  rarely  said  anything  bril- 
liant, and  he  had  seen  more  beautiful  women,  he  had 
not  met  one  who,  taken  all  round,  could  compare  with 
Sylvia. 


BLAND  GETS  ENTANGLED          159 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of?  "  she  asked  at  length, 
with  a  gleam  of  mischief  in  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,"  he  answered,  slightly  confused,  "  my  mind 
was  wandering.  I  believe  I  was  trying  to  explain  a 
thing  that's  wrapped  in  impenetrable  mystery." 

"  One  wouldn't  have  imagined  you  were  given  to 
that  kind  of  amusement,  and  it's  obviously  a  waste  of 
time.  Wouldn't  it  be  wiser  to  accept  the  object  that 
puzzles  you  for  what  it  seems,  if  it's  nice?  " 

"  It  is,"  he  declared,  wondering  whether  this  wa^ 
a  random  shot  on  her  part  or  one  of  the  flashes  of 
penetration  with  which  she  sometimes  surprised  him. 
"  Your  advice  is  good." 

"  I  believe  so,"  responded  Sylvia.  "If  a  thing 
pleases  you,  don't  try  to  find  out  too  much  about  it. 
That's  the  way  to  disappointment." 

She  was  a  little  astonished  at  his  reply. 

"  Perhaps  it's  a  deserved  penalty.  One  should  re- 
spect a  beautiful  mystery  —  unquestioning  faith  is  a 
power.  It  reacts  upon  its  object  as  well  as  upon  its 
possessor." 

"Even  if  it's  mistaken?" 

"  It  couldn't  be  altogether  so,"  Bland  objected. 
"  Nothing  that  was  unworthy  could  inspire  real  devo- 
tion." 

"  All  this  is  far  too  serious,"  said  Sylvia,  petulantly ; 
for  her  companion's  moralizing  had  awakened  a  train 
of  unpleasant  reflections. 

She  did  not  think  unquestioning  faith  was  common, 
but  she  knew  of  one  man  who  was  endowed  with  it, 
and  he  was  toiling  for  her  sake  on  the  desolate  west- 
ern prairie.  Once  or  twice  his  belief  in  her  had  roused 


160  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

angry  compunction,  and  she  had  revealed  the  more 
unfavorable  aspects  of  her  character,  but  he  had  re- 
fused to  see  them. 

"  Then  what  shall  we  talk  about  ?  "  Bland  inquired. 

"  Anything  that  doesn't  tax  one's  brain  severely. 
Yourself,  for  example." 

"  I'm  not  sure  that's  flattering,  and  it's  an  indiffer- 
ent topic ;  but  I  won't  back  out.  As  I  gave  you  your 
choice,  I  must  take  the  consequences." 

"Are  you  always  ready  to  do  that?"  There  was 
a  tiny  hint  of  seriousness  in  her  voice. 

"  Well,"  he  said  with  some  dryness,  "  I  generally 
try." 

There  was  something  that  reminded  her  of  George 
in  his  expression.  The  man,  she  thought,  would  re- 
deem what  pledge  he  gave ;  he  might  be  guilty  of  rash- 
ness, but  he  would  not  slink  away  when  the  reckoning 
came.  Then  she  became  conscious  of  a  half-tender 
regret.  It  was  a  pity  that  George  was  so  fond  of  the 
background,  and  left  it  only  when  he  was  needed, 
while  Brand  was  a  prominent  figure  wherever  he  went, 
and  this  was,  perhaps,  the  one  of  his  characteristics 
which  most  impressed  her.  Then  he  rather  mod- 
estly began  the  brief  account  of  his  career,  adding 
scraps  of  information  about  his  relatives,  who  were 
people  of  station.  He  did  not  enlarge  upon  several 
points  that  were  in  his  favor,  but  he  omitted  to  state 
that  he  had  now  and  then  been  on  the  verge  of  a 
financial  crisis. 

Sylvia  listened  with  keen  interest,  and  asked  a  few 
questions  to  help  him  on ;  but  when  he  finished  she  let 
the  subject  drop.  Soon  afterward  she  glanced  down 
the  road,  which  was  growing  dim. 


BLAND  GETS  ENTANGLED         161 

"  I  wish  your  man  would  come.  It's  getting  late," 
she  said. 

"  He  can't  be  much  longer.  I  don't  think  you  need 
be  disturbed." 

"  I  am  disturbed,"  Sylvia  declared.  "  I  really 
shouldn't  have  come  to-day ;  you  will  remember  I  hes- 
itated." 

"Then  it  was  a  temptation?" 

Sylvia  smiled  rather  wistfully.  "  That  must  be  con- 
fessed; I  need  a  little  stir  and  brightness  and  I  so 
seldom  get  it.  You  know  Muriel;  I  owe  her  a  good 
deal,  but  she's  so  dull  and  she  makes  you  feel  that 
everything  you  like  to  do  is  wrong." 

"  But  you  haven't  been  very  long  with  Mrs.  Lan- 
sing. Wasn't  it  different  in  Canada?"  Bland  had 
a  reason  for  venturing  on  the  question,  though  it  was 
rather  a  delicate  one. 

"  I  can  hardly  bear  to  think  of  it !  For  four  months 
in  the  year  I  was  shut  up,  half-frozen,  in  a  desolate 
homestead.  There  was  deep  snow  all  round  the  place ; 
nobody  came.  It  was  a  day's  drive  to  a  forlorn  settle- 
ment; nothing  ever  broke  the  dreary  monotony.  In 
summer  one  got  worn  out  with  the  heat  and  the  end- 
less petty  troubles.  There  was  not  a  moment's  rest; 
the  house  was  filled  with  plowmen  and  harvesters,  un- 
couth barbarians  who  ate  at  our  table  and  must  be 
waited  on." 

Bland  was  moved  to  pity ;  but  he  was  also  consoled. 
As  she  had  not  mentioned  Marston,  she  could  not 
greatly  have  felt  his  loss.  Sylvia  must  have  married 
young;  no  doubt,  before  she  knew  her  mind. 

"  I  wish,"  he  said  quietly,  "  I  could  do  something  to 
make  your  life  a  little  brighter." 


162  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  But  you  can't.  I've  had  one  happy  day  —  and 
I'm  grateful.  It  must  last  me  a  while." 

He  leaned  forward,  looking  at  her  with  an  intent 
expression. 

"  Sylvia,  give  me  the  right  to  try." 

She  shrank  from  him  with  a  start  that  was  partly 
natural,  for  she  was  not  quite  prepared  for  a  bold 
avowal. 

"  No,"  she  said  in  alarm.     "  How  can  I  do  that  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  understand  me,  Sylvia  ?  I  want  the 
right  to  take  care  of  you." 

She  checked  him  with  a  gesture. 

"  It  is  you  who  can't  understand.  Do  you  think  I'm 
heartless  ?  " 

"  Nothing  could  make  me  think  hardly  of  you,"  he 
declared. 

"  Then  show  me  some  respect  and  consideration. 
It  was  what  I  looked  for ;  I  felt  I  was  safe  with  you." 

Though  he  had  not  expected  strong  opposition,  he 
saw  that  she  was  determined.  He  had  been  too  pre- 
cipitate, and  while  he  had  no  idea  of  abandoning  his 
purpose,  he  bowed. 

"If  I've  offended,  you  must  forgive  me  —  I  thought 
of  nothing  beyond  my  longing  for  you.  That  won't 
change  or  diminish,  but  I've  been  rash  and  have 
startled  you.  I  must  wait." 

He  watched  her  in  keen  anxiety,  but  Sylvia  gave  no 
hint  of  her  feelings.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  she  was 
wondering  why  she  had  checked  and  repulsed  him. 
She  could  not  tell.  A  sudden  impulse  had  swayed  her, 
but  she  was  not  sorry  she  had  yielded  to  it.  Her  hold 
on  the  man  was  as  strong  as  ever;  the  affair  was  not 
ended. 


BLAND  GETS  ENTANGLED         163 

There  was  silence  for  the  next  few  minutes.  It 
was  growing  dark;  the  hills  had  faded  to  blurs  of 
shadows,  and  the  moor  ran  back,  a  vast,  dim  waste. 
Then  a  twinkling  light  moved  toward  them  up  the 
ascending  road.  Bland  rose  and  pointed  to  it. 

"  I  dare  say  the  man  has  got  the  things  he  needed. 
We'll  be  off  again  shortly,"  he  said  in  his  usual  man- 
ner; and  Sylvia  was  grateful. 

In  another  half-hour  the  car  was  ready,  and  when 
Bland  helped  Sylvia  in  and  wrapped  the  furs  about 
her,  there  was  something  new  in  his  care  for  her  com- 
fort It  was  a  kind  of  proprietary  gentleness  which 
she  did  not  resent.  Then  they  sped  away  across  the 
dusky  moor. 


CHAPTER  XV 

HERBERT   MAKES   A    CLAIM 

SYLVIA  finished  her  round  of  visits  in  a  state 
approaching  insolvency.  Mrs.  Kettering,  with 
whom  she  stayed  some  time,  indulged  in  expensive 
amusements,  and  though  she  would  have  listened  with 
good-humor  to  a  plea  of  poverty,  Sylvia  declined  to 
make  it.  She  would  not  have  Bland  suspect  the  state 
of  her  affairs,  and  while  he  remained  in  the  house 
she  took  her  part  in  all  that  went  on,  which  included 
card-playing  for  high  stakes.  As  it  happened,  she 
had  a  steady  run  of  misfortune.  Bland  sympathized 
with  her  and  occasionally  ventured  a  remonstrance,  but 
she  could  see  that  the  cheerful  manner  in  which  she 
faced  her  losses  had  its  effect  on  him. 

On  the  evening  of  her  return,  Herbert  was  strolling 
along  the  platform  at  a  busy  junction,  in  the  gather- 
ing dusk,  when  he  noticed  Bland  speaking  to  a  porter. 
Soon  afterward,  Bland  came  toward  him,  and  Herbert 
asked  him  if  he  were  staying  in  the  neighborhood. 

"  No,"  said  Bland ;  "  I'm  passing  through ;  only  been 
here  half  an  hour.  We're  probably  on  the  same  er- 
rand." 

"  I  came  to  meet  Mrs.  Marston,"  Herbert  told  him. 

"  And  I  broke  my  journey  to  town  with  the  idea  of 
being  of  some  assistance  when  she  changed." 

164 


HERBERT  MAKES  A  CLAIM        165 

"  They  don't  give  one  much  time  here,  and  it's  an 
awkward  station,"  Herbert  said,  with  a  careless  air. 

It  struck  him  that  Sylvia's  acquaintance  with  the 
man  must  have  ripened  rapidly,  for  he  was  well  in- 
formed of  her  movements ;  but  this  was  no  concern  of 
his.  He  had  thought  for  some  time  that  a  match 
between  her  and  George  would  be  unsuitable.  For  a 
while  he  and  Bland  talked  about  indifferent  matters, 
and  then  the  latter  turned  to  him  with  a  smile. 

"  I  was  very  lucky  at  a  small  steeplechase,"  he  said. 
"  Backed  a  rank  outsider  that  only  a  few  friends  of 
mine  believed  in.  Do  you  know  of  anything  that's 
bound  to  go  up  on  the  Stock  Exchange  ?  It's  in  your 
line,  I  think." 

"  I  don't.  Such  stocks  are  remarkably  scarce.  If 
there's  any  strong  reason  for  a  rise  in  value,  buyers 
anticipate  it." 

"  Then  perhaps  you  know  of  something  that  has  a 
better  chance  than  the  rest  ?  I  expect  your  tip's  worth 
having." 

"  You  might  try  —  rubber !  " 

"  Rubber?     Hasn't  that  been  a  little  overdone?  " 

Herbert  considered,  for  this  remark  confirmed  his 
private  opinion.  Rubber  shares  had  been  in  strong 
demand,  but  he  thought  they  would  not  continue  in 
general  favor.  The  suggestion  made  by  an  outsider 
might  be  supposed  to  express  the  view  held  by  small 
speculators,  which  had  its  effect  on  the  market. 

"  I  gave  you  my  idea,  but  I  can't  guarantee  suc- 
cess," he  said.  "  You  must  use  your  judgment,  and 
don't  blame  me  if  things  go  wrong." 

"  Of  course  not;  the  risk's  mine,"  returned  Bland; 
and  Herbert  thought  he  meant  to  follow  his  advice. 


1 66  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  train  which  they  were 
waiting  for  came  in,  and  Herbert  tactfully  stood  aside 
when  Bland  helped  Sylvia  to  alight.  Watching  her 
face,  he  concluded  by  the  absence  of  any  sign  of  sur- 
prise that  the  meeting  had  been  arranged.  Bland, 
however,  had  little  opportunity  for  conversation  amid 
the  bustle;  and  the  train  was  on  the  point  of  starting 
before  Sylvia  saw  Herbert.  He  got  in  as  it  was  mov- 
ing, and  she  looked  at  him  sharply. 

"  I  didn't  expect  you  would  meet  me." 

"  So  I  supposed,"  he  told  her. 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  said,  smiling,  "  you  might  have 
been  useful." 

Herbert  thought  she  might  have  thanked  him  for 
coming,  considering  that  he  had,  by  his  wife's  orders, 
made  an  inconvenient  journey;  but  gratitude  was  not 
one  of  Sylvia's  virtues. 

"  Did  you  enjoy  yourself?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  on  the  whole,  but  I've  been  dreadfully  un- 
lucky. In  fact,  I'm  threatened  by  a  financial  crisis." 

Herbert  made  a  rueful  grimace. 

"  I  know  what  that  means ;  I'm  getting  used  to  it. 
But  we'll  talk  the  matter  over  another  time.  I  sup- 
pose I'm  neglecting  my  duties;  I  ought  to  lecture 
you." 

"  Isn't  Muriel  capable  of  doing  all  that's  necessary 
in  that  line?" 

"  She's  hampered  by  not  knowing  as  much  as  I  do," 
Herbert  retorted  with  a  meaning  smile. 

Nothing  of  moment  passed  between  them  during  the 
rest  of  the  journey,  but  some  time  after  they  reached 
home  Herbert  turned  to  Sylvia,  who  was  sitting  near 
him,  in  the  absence  of  his  wife. 


HERBERT  MAKES  A  CLAIM         167 

"  You're  short  of  funds  again?  "  he  asked. 

Sylvia  explained  her  embarrassments,  and  Herbert 
looked  thoughtful. 

"  So,"  he  said,  "  you  have  spent  what  George  sent, 
as  well  as  what  I  advanced  you  in  anticipation  of  his 
next  remittance.  This  can't  go  on,  you  know." 

"  I'll  be  very  economical  for  the  next  few  months," 
Sylvia  promised  penitently. 

"If  you're  not,  you'll  find  very  stern  economy  im- 
perative during  those  that  follow ;  but  I'll  let  you  have 
a  small  check  before  I  leave." 

Sylvia  thanked  him  and  they  talked  about  other 
matters  for  a  while.  Then  he  said  carelessly: 

"  There's  a  favor  you  could  do  me.  It  won't  cost 
you  any  trouble.  A  young  man  is  coming  down  here 
next  week,  and  I  want  you  to  be  as  pleasant  as  you 
can  and  make  him  enjoy  his  visit.  I'm  inclined  to 
think  he'll  appreciate  any  little  attention  you  can  show 
him." 

'  The  last's  a  cheap  compliment,"  Sylvia  rejoined. 
"  Aren't  you  asking  me  to  undertake  your  wife's 
duty?" 

Herbert  smiled. 

"  Not  altogether.  Muriel's  an  excellent  hostess ; 
she  will  do  her  part,  but  I  want  you  to  assist  her. 
You  have  exceptional  and  rather  dangerous  gifts." 

"  Don't  go  too  far,"  Sylvia  warned  him.  "  But  I'd 
better  understand  the  situation.  How  long  do  you 
expect  me  to  be  amiable  to  the  man  ?  " 

"  Only  for  a  couple  of  days.  He  might  come  down 
again,  but  that's  not  certain." 

Sylvia  considered,  for  she  saw  what  Herbert  re- 
quired. She  was  to  exert  her  powers  of  fascination 


168  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

upon  the  visitor,  in  order  to  make  him  more  pliable  in 
his  host's  hands.  The  task  was  not  a  disagreeable 
one,  and  she  had  foreseen  all  along  that  Herbert,  in  in- 
dulging her  in  various  ways,  would  look  for  some  re- 
turn. 

"  After  all,"  she  said,  "  there's  no  reason  why  I 
should  be  ungracious  to  him,  so  long  as  he's  pleas- 
ant." 

Herbert  carelessly  nodded  agreement,  but  Sylvia 
knew  that  he  expected  her  to  carry  out  his  wishes; 
and  she  did  not  find  it  difficult  when  the  guest  ar- 
rived. 

Paul  Singleton  was  young,  and  perhaps  unusually 
susceptible  to  the  influences  brought  to  bear  upon  him 
during  his  visit.  Born  with  some  talents,  in  very 
humble  station,  he  had  by  means  of  scholarships  ob- 
tained an  excellent  education,  and  had  devoted  himself 
in  particular  to  the  study  of  botany.  A  prosperous 
man  who  took  an  interest  in  him  sent  him  out  to  a 
tropical  plantation,  where  he  wrote  a  work  on  the 
vegetable  product  of  equatorial  regions,  which  secured 
him  notice.  Indeed,  he  was  beginning  to  make  his 
mark  as  an  authority  on  the  subject.  So  far,  how- 
ever, his  life  had  been  one  of  economy  and  self-de- 
nial, and  although  Lansing's  dwelling  was  not  charac- 
terized by  any  very  marked  signs  of  culture  or  luxury, 
it  was  different  from  the  surroundings  to  which  Single- 
ton was  accustomed.  His  hostess  was  staidly  cordial 
and  at  once  set  him  at  his  ease;  Sylvia  was  a  revela- 
tion. Her  piquant  prettiness  and  her  charm  of  man- 
ner dazzled  him.  She  played  her  part  well,  not 
merely  because  she  had  agreed  to  do  so,  but  because  it 
was  one  that  strongly  appealed  to  her  nature. 


HERBERT  MAKES  A  CLAIM        169 

On  the  second  evening  of  Singleton's  visit,  he  was 
talking  to  Sylvia  rather  confidentially  in  the  drawing- 
room,  where  Mrs.  Lansing  had  left  them,  while  Her- 
bert was  seated  at  a  table  in  his  library  with  a  cigar 
in  his  hand  and  a  litter  of  papers  in  front  of  him.  He 
was  thinking  hard,  and  rubber  occupied  the  foremost 
place  in  his  mind.  He  was  a  director  of  a  company, 
formed  to  exploit  a  strip  of  rubber-bearing  territory 
in  the  tropics,  which  had  hitherto  been  successful; 
but  he  felt  that  it  was  time  to  retire  from  the  position 
and  realize  the  profit  on  his  shares.  There  was  an- 
other company  he  and  some  associates  had  arranged 
to  launch,  but  he  was  now  very  doubtful  whether  this 
would  be  wise.  Rubber  exploitations  were  overdone ; 
there  were  signs  that  investors  were  losing  their  con- 
fidence. Withdrawal,  however,  was  difficult,  for  it 
must  be  quietly  effected  without  breaking  prices  by 
any  unusual  sales.  It  was  therefore  desirable  that 
other  holders  should  cling  to  their  shares,  and  any 
fresh  buying  by  outsiders  would,  of  course,  be  so  much 
the  better.  This  was  one  reason  why  he  had  sug- 
gested a  purchase  to  Bland. 

Opening  a  book,  he  noted  the  amount  of  stock  stand- 
ing in  George's  name.  This  had  been  purchased  by 
Herbert,  who  had  been  given  such  authority  by  his 
cousin  at  a  time  when  the  directors'  position  needed 
strengthening,  though  it  had  been  necessary  to  dispose 
of  sound  shares,  yielding  a  small  return.  The  prompt 
sale  of  this  stock  would  secure  George  a  moderate 
profit,  but  after  some  consideration  Herbert  decided 
that  it  should  remain.  He  had  no  wish  that  George 
should  suffer,  but  his  own  interests  stood  first.  Then 
he  carefully  studied  several  sheets  of  figures,  which 


170  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

confirmed  his  opinion  that  a  drop  in  the  value  of  the 
stock  he  owned  might  be  looked  for  shortly,  though  he 
thought  very  few  people  realized  this  yet.  It  was 
time  for  effective  but  cautious  action.  He  must  un- 
load as  soon  as  possible. 

By  and  by  he  rang  a  bell,  and  passed  across  the 
cigar  box  when  Singleton  came  in  and  sat  down  op- 
posite him.  He  was  a  wiry,  dark-haired  man  with  an 
intelligent  face  which  had  grown  rather  white  and 
haggard  in  the  tropics.  Just  now  he  felt  grateful  to 
his  host,  who  had  made  his  stay  very  pleasant  and  had 
given  him  an  opportunity  for  meeting  Sylvia. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  read  my  report  on  your  new 
tropical  property?  "  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Herbert,  picking  up  a  lengthy  doc- 
ument. "  I've  given  it  some  thought.  On  the  whole, 
it  isn't  optimistic," 

Singleton  pondered  this.  He  had  learned  a  little 
about  company  floating,  and  was  willing  to  oblige  his 
host  as  far  as  he  honestly  could.  Lansing  had  enabled 
him  to  undertake  a  search  for  some  rare  examples  of 
tropical  flora  by  paying  him  a  handsome  fee  for  the  re- 
port. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  there  is  some  good  rubber  in  your 
territory,  as  I  have  stated." 

"  But  not  readily  accessible?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  say  it  is." 

Herbert  smiled  at  him. 

"  I'm  not  suggesting  such  a  course.  In  asking  a 
man  of  your  character  and  attainments  to  investigate, 
I  was  prompted  by  the  desire  to  get  a  reliable  re- 
port." 

Singleton  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  this ;  so  far 


HERBERT  MAKES  A  CLAIM        171 

as  his  experience  went,  gentlemen  who  paid  for  an 
opinion  on  the  property  they  meant  to  dispose  of  did 
not  want  an  unfavorable  one. 

"  The  rubber's  scattered  and  grows  in  awkward 
places,"  he  explained. 

"  Precisely."  Herbert  glanced  at  the  paper.  "  You 
mentioned  something  of  the  kind.  But  what  about 
planting  and  systematic  cultivation  ?  " 

"  Soil  and  climate  are  eminently  suitable." 

"  I  gather  that  there's  a  difficulty  in  the  way  of  ob- 
taining native  labor?  " 

Singleton  broke  into  a  grim  smile. 

"  It's  a  serious  one.  The  natives  consider  strangers 
as  their  lawful  prey,  and  they  lately  managed  to  give 
a  strong  punitive  expedition  a  good  deal  of  trouble. 
In  fact,  as  they're  in  a  rather  restless  mood,  the  au- 
thorities were  very  dubious  about  letting  me  go  in- 
land, and  in  spite  of  the  care  I  took,  they  got  two  of 
my  colored  carriers.  Shot  them  with  little  poisoned 
arrows." 

"Ah!"  ejaculated  Herbert.  "Poisoned  arrows? 
That  should  have  a  deterrent  effect." 

"  Singularly  so.  A  slight  prick  is  enough  to  wipe 
•you  out  within  an  hour.  It's  merciful  the  time  is  so 
s^ort." 

"  That,"  said  Herbert,  "  was  not  quite  what  I  meant. 
I  was  thinking  of  the  effect  upon  the  gentlemen  who 
wish  to  launch  this  company." 

"  The  risk  isn't  attached  to  their  end  of  the  busi- 
ness," Singleton  dryly  pointed  out. 

Herbert  did  not  answer.  While  he  sat,  with  knitted 
brows,  turning  over  some  of  the  papers  in  front  of 
him,  Singleton  looked  about.  Hitherto  his  life  had 


172  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

been  spent  in  comfortless  and  shabby  English  lodgings, 
in  the  sour  steam  of  tropic  swamps,  and  in  galvanized 
iron  factories  that  were  filled  all  day  with  an  intoler- 
able heat.  As  a  result  of  this,  his  host's  library  im- 
pressed him.  It  was  spacious  and  furnished  in  ex- 
cellent taste;  a  shaded  silver  lamp  stood  on  the  table, 
diffusing  a  restricted  light  that  made  the  room  look 
larger;  a  clear  wood  fire  burned  in  the  grate.  The 
effect  of  all  he  saw  was  tranquilizing ;  and  the  house 
as  a  whole,  inhabited,  as  it  was,  by  two  charming, 
cultured  women,  struck  him  as  a  delightful  place  of 
rest.  He  wondered  with  longing  whether  he  would 
have  an  opportunity  for  coming  back  to  it. 

Then  his  host  looked  up. 

"  Have  you  any  strong  objections  to  recasting  this 
report  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Don't  mistake  me.  I'm  not 
asking  you  to  color  things  in  any  way ;  I  want  simple 
facts.  After  what  you  have  told  me,  I  can't  consider 
the  prospects  of  our  working  the  concessions  very  fa- 
vorable." 

Singleton  was  surprised;  Lansing's  attitude  was 
puzzling,  considering  that  he  had  suggested  the  flota- 
tion of  the  projected  company. 

"  Do  you  want  the  drawbacks  insisted  on  ? "  he 
asked. 

Herbert  smiled. 

"  I  don't  want  them  mitigated ;  state  them  clearly. 
Include  what  you  told  me  about  the  trouble  with  the 
natives,  and  the  poisoned  arrows." 

Then  a  light  broke  in  upon  Singleton.  He  had  not 
placed  his  host  in  the  same  category  with  Mrs.  Lan- 
sing and  Sylvia.  It  looked  as  if  he  had  changed  his 


HERBERT  MAKES  A  CLAIM        173 

plans  and  wished  to  prevent  the  company  from  being 
formed.  This  caused  Singleton  to  consider  how  far 
he  would  be  justified  in  assisting  him.  He  could  hon- 
estly go  some  length  in  doing  so,  and,  having  fallen  a 
victim  to  Sylvia's  charm,  he  was  willing  to  do  his 
utmost. 

"  There's  no  doubt  that  some  of  the  facts  are  dis- 
couraging," he  said. 

Herbert  looked  at  him  keenly. 

"  That  is  what  struck  me.  Suppose  you  think  the 
thing  over  and  bring  me  down  a  fresh  report  a  week 
from  to-day.  Stay  a  day  or  two,  if  you're  not  busy ;  I 
can  get  you  some  shooting,  and  we  can  talk  over  any 
points  that  seem  to  require  it  at  leisure." 

Singleton  sat  silent  a  moment.  He  wanted  to  come 
back,  and  he  did  not  believe  the  concession  could  be 
profitably  worked  by  any  usual  methods.  For  all  that, 
he  thought  he  could  make  something  of  the  property ; 
it  was  not  altogether  worthless,  though  it  would  re- 
quire exceptional  treatment. 

"  Perhaps  that  would  be  better,"  he  replied.  "  I 
should  be  delighted  to  make  another  visit." 

Herbert  took  up  the  paper  and  looked  at  Singleton 
with  a  smile  as  he  flung  it  into  the  fire. 

"  Now  I  think  we'll  go  down,"  he  said.  "  Mrs. 
Lansing  will  be  waiting  for  us." 

Singleton  spent  the  remainder  of  the  evening  with 
great  content,  talking  to  Sylvia.  When  she  left  him, 
Herbert  met  her  in  the  hall. 

'  Thanks,"  he  smiled  meaningly.  "  Did  you  find  the 
man  interesting?" 

"To  some  extent,"  returned  Sylvia;  "he's  a  type 


174  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

that's  new  to  me.  Still,  of  course,  he's  a  little  raw, 
and  inclined  to  be  serious.  I  think  one  could  see  too 
much  of  him." 

"  He's  coming  down  again  in  a  week." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Sylvia,  with  signs  of  protest  "  And 
after  that?" 

Herbert  laughed. 

"  I  don't  think  he'll  make  a  third  visit." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A   FORCED   RETIREMENT 

SIXGLETON  came  down  again  to  Brantholme, 
bringing  his  amended  report,  which  met  with 
Herbert's  approval.  He  spent  one  wet  day  walking 
through  turnip  fields  and  stubble  in  search  of  part- 
ridges, and  two  delightful  evenings  with  Mrs.  Lan- 
sing and  Sylvia,  and  then  he  was  allowed  to  depart. 
He  had^eerved  his  purpose,  and  Herbert  was  glad  to 
get  rid  of  him.  Lansing  generally  found  it  desirable 
to  drop  men  for  whom  he  had  no  more  use ;  but  he  had 
not  done  with  Singleton. 

A  day  or  two  later,  after  his  guest  had  left.  Herbert 
sat  in  his  office  in  a  busy  town  with  an  open  ledger  in 
front  of  him.  He  looked  thoughtful,  and,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  was  reviewing  the  latter  part  of  his  business 
career,  which  had  been  marked  by  risks,  boldly  faced, 
but  attended  by  keen  anxiety.  Though  his  wife  had 
some  money,  Lansing  had  been  hampered  by  lack  of 
capital,  and  George's  money  had  been  placed  at  his  dis- 
posal at  a  very  opportune  time.  It  had  enabled  him 
to  carry  the  rubber  company  over  what  might  have 
proved  a  crisis,  and  thus  strengthen  his  position  as  di- 
rector, by  purchasing  sufficient  shares  on  George's  ac- 
count to  keep  the  price  from  falling  and  defeat  the 
intrigues  of  a  clique  of  discontented  investors.  Now, 
however,  the  strain  had  slackened;  Herbert's  schemes 

175 


176  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

had  succeeded,  and  he  had  only  to  take  his  profit  by 
selling  out  as  quietly  as  possible.  He  had  already 
given  a  broker  orders  to  do  so.  He  rather  regretted 
that  he  could  not  dispose  of  George's  shares,  but  these 
must  be  kept  a  little  longer;  to  throw  a  large  quantity 
upon  the  market  would  have  a  depressing  effect  and 
might  arouse  suspicion. 

Presently  a  man  with  whom  he  had  dealings  was 
shown  in  and  sat  down.  His  appearance  indicated 
some  degree  of  prosperity,  but  he  looked  disturbed 
and  anxious. 

"  I  met  Jackson  yesterday,  and  after  what  he  told 
me  of  his  interview  with  you,  I  thought  I'd  better  run 
up  and  see  you  at  once,"  he  explained. 

Herbert  had  expected  the  visit. 

"  I'm  at  your  service,"  he  said. 

"  What  about  the  new  company  ?  I  understand  you 
haven't  come  to  any  decision  yet  about  the  suggestions 
we  sent  you  for  its  flotation." 

"  No,"  replied  Herbert.  "  In  fact,  I've  reasons  for 
believing  it  wouldn't  be  wise  to  go  any  farther  in  the 
matter." 

The  other  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  heard  that  you  were  not  so 
enthusiastic  as  you  were  not  long  ago,  which  is  why 
I  came  down;  but  I  never  expected  this!  Anyway, 
after  what  we  have  done,  you  are  bound  to  go  on  with 
the  thing.  Our  success  with  the  first  company  will 
help  the  shares  off." 

'  That's  not  certain."  Herbert  handed  him  a  paper. 
"  You  haven't  seen  Singleton's  report." 

The  man  read  it  hastily,  his  face  changing.  Then 
he  looked  up  with  signs  of  strong  indignation. 


A  FORCED  RETIREMENT  177 

"  You  let  him  give  you  a  thing  like  this  ?  Paid 
him  for  it?" 

"What  could  I  do?  The  man's  honest.  He  de- 
clares the  country's  dangerous;  he  had  two  carriers 
killed.  There's  no  prospect  of  our  obtaining  the  need- 
ful native  labor." 

"  Send  somebody  else  out  at  once !  " 

"  With  the  same  result.  Besides,  it's  expensive. 
Singleton's  fee  wasn't  so  big,  because  he  shared  the 
cost  of  his  orchid  collecting  or  something  of  the  kind 
with  us.  Then  he  might  talk,  and  there  would  always 
be  the  risk  of  somebody's  challenging  us  with  suppress- 
ing his  report.  If  things  went  wrong,  that  would  lead 
to  trouble." 

"  Would  there  be  any  use  in  my  seeing  him  ?  " 

Herbert  smiled.  Singleton  would  not  turn  against 
him ;  Sylvia  had  made  her  influence  felt. 

"  Not  the  slightest,"  he  answered.  "  You  can  take 
that  for  granted." 

His  visitor  pondered  for  a  moment  or  two ;  and  then 
he  crumpled  the  report  in  his  hand,  growing  red  in  the 
face. 

"  You  seem  content  with  this  production.  It  looks 
as  if  you  had  meant  to  back  out." 

Herbert  looked  at  him  tranquilly. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  that's  my  intention  now ;  and  I 
don't  think  that  you  can  induce  me  to  alter  it.  I  can't 
see  that  we  would  be  justified  in  floating  the  concern." 

"  But  it  was  you  who  suggested  it  and  led  us  on ! 
What  about  the  money  we  have  already  spent  ?  " 

"  It's  gone.  I'm  sorry,  but  things  don't  always  turn 
out  right.  When  I  first  mentioned  the  matter,  the. 
prospects  looked  good ;  investigation  places  them  in  a 


178  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

less  favorable  light,  for  which  you  can  hardly  hold  me 
responsible.  You  took  a  business  risk." 

The  other  man  angrily  flung  the  report  on  the  table. 

"  This  has  been  a  blow  to  me,  and  I'm  far  from  ap- 
preciating the  course  you've  taken.  But  what  about 
the  older  concern?  Though  we  don't  seem  to  have 
turned  out  much  rubber  yet,  I  suppose  its  position  is 
still  satisfactory?  " 

Herbert  saw  suspicion  in  the  man's  face  and  he  rang 
a  bell. 

"  I  think  you  had  better  satisfy  yourself;  I  have  the 
necessary  particulars  here." 

He  indicated  some  books  on  a  neighboring  shelf; 
and  then  added,  when  a  clerk  appeared : 

"  Will  you  bring  me  the  extract  of  our  working  ex- 
penses that  I  asked  you  to  make  out?  " 

The  clerk  came  back  with  a  sheet  of  figures,  which 
Herbert  handed  to  his  visitor  with  one  of  the  books, 
and  the  man  spent  some  time  carefully  examining 
them. 

"Everything  looks  satisfactory;  I've  no  fault  to 
find,"  he  said  at  length.  "  But  I  feel  very  sore  about 
your  giving  up  the  new  undertaking." 

"  It  can't  be  helped,"  explained  Herbert.  "  If  it's 
any  comfort  to  you,  I  dropped  as  much  money  over 
preliminary  expenses  as  you  did." 

After  a  little  further  conversation,  his  visitor  left 
and  Herbert  resumed  his  work.  On  the  whole,  the 
interview  had  been  less  embarrassing  than  he  expected, 
and  though  it  was  likely  that  the  rest  of  his  colleagues 
would  call  and  expostulate,  he  was  ready  to  meet  them. 
His  excuse  for  abandoning  the  project  was,  on  the  face 
of  it,  a  good  one;  but  he  had  no  thought  of  giving 


A  FORCED  RETIREMENT  179 

these  men,  who  were  largely  interested  in  the  original 
company,  a  word  of  warning.  It  was  undesirable 
that  they  should  sell  their  shares  until  he  had  disposed 
of  his.  They  had,  he  argued,  the  same  opportunities 
for  forecasting  the  course  of  the  market  and  gaging 
the  trend  of  investors'  ideas  as  he  enjoyed,  and  if  they 
did  not  make  use  of  them,  it  was  their  fault.  The 
stock  had  reached  a  satisfactory  premium,  which  was 
all  that  he  had  promised ;  he  could  not  be  expected  to 
guarantee  its  remaining  at  the  high  level. 

During  the  next  three  or  four  weeks  his  broker  sold 
out  his  shares  in  small  blocks,  and  when  the  quantity 
had  been  largely  reduced,  Herbert  decided  that  he 
would  dispose  of  those  he  had  purchased  on  George's 
account.  Though  there  were  signs  of  a  diminishing 
interest  in  such  stock,  values  had  scarcely  begun  to  fall, 
and  having  made  his  position  secure,  he  did  not  wish 
his  cousin  to  incur  a  loss.  Accordingly  he  sent  in- 
structions to  sell  another  lot  of  shares. 

He  was  very  busy  the  next  day  when  a  telegram 
was  brought  him,  but  he  sat  still  for  some  minutes  con- 
sidering it.  The  market,  it  stated,  had  suddenly  fallen 
flat,  and  as  prices  were  giving  way  sharply,  further 
orders  were  requested.  The  change  Herbert  had 
foreseen  had  come  a  little  sooner  than  he  had  ex- 
pected. He  still  held  some  shares,  which  he  had 
thought  of  keeping,  because  it  might,  after  all,  prove 
judicious  to  retain  a  degree  of  control  in  the  company, 
and  having  sold  the  rest  at  a  good  profit,  a  moderate 
fall  in  their  value  would  be  of  less  consequence.  The 
drop,  however,  was  marked,  and  he  decided  to  further 
reduce  the  quantity  standing  in  his  name,  instead  of 
realizing  those  belonging  to  his  cousin.  George  must 


178  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

less  favorable  light,  for  which  you  can  hardly  hold  me 
responsible.  You  took  a  business  risk." 

The  other  man  angrily  flung  the  report  on  the  table. 

"  This  has  been  a  blow  to  me,  and  I'm  far  from  ap- 
preciating the  course  you've  taken.  But  what  about 
the  older  concern?  Though  we  don't  seem  to  have 
turned  out  much  rubber  yet,  I  suppose  its  position  is 
still  satisfactory  ?  " 

Herbert  saw  suspicion  in  the  man's  face  and  he  rang 
a  bell. 

"  I  think  you  had  better  satisfy  yourself;  I  have  the 
necessary  particulars  here." 

He  indicated  some  books  on  a  neighboring  shelf; 
and  then  added,  when  a  clerk  appeared : 

"  Will  you  bring  me  the  extract  of  our  working  ex- 
penses that  I  asked  you  to  make  out?  " 

The  clerk  came  back  with  a  sheet  of  figures,  which 
Herbert  handed  to  his  visitor  with  one  of  the  books, 
and  the  man  spent  some  time  carefully  examining 
them. 

"Everything  looks  satisfactory;  I've  no  fault  to 
find,"  he  said  at  length.  "  But  I  feel  very  sore  about 
your  giving  up  the  new  undertaking." 

"  It  can't  be  helped,"  explained  Herbert.  "  If  it's 
any  comfort  to  you,  I  dropped  as  much  money  over 
preliminary  expenses  as  you  did." 

After  a  little  further  conversation,  his  visitor  left 
and  Herbert  resumed  his  work.  On  the  whole,  the 
interview  had  been  less  embarrassing  than  he  expected, 
and  though  it  was  likely  that  the  rest  of  his  colleagues 
would  call  and  expostulate,  he  was  ready  to  meet  them. 
His  excuse  for  abandoning  the  project  wras,  on  the  face 
of  it,  a  good  one;  but  he  had  no  thought  of  giving 


A  FORCED  RETIREMENT  179 

these  men,  who  were  largely  interested  in  the  original 
company,  a  word  of  warning.  It  was  undesirable 
that  they  should  sell  their  shares  until  he  had  disposed 
of  his.  They  had,  he  argued,  the  same  opportunities 
for  forecasting  the  course  of  the  market  and  gaging 
the  trend  of  investors'  ideas  as  he  enjoyed,  and  if  they 
did  not  make  use  of  them,  it  was  their  fault.  The 
stock  had  reached  a  satisfactory  premium,  which  was 
all  that  he  had  promised ;  he  could  not  be  expected  to 
guarantee  its  remaining  at  the  high  level. 

During  the  next  three  or  four  weeks  his  broker  sold 
out  his  shares  in  small  blocks,  and  when  the  quantity 
had  been  largely  reduced,  Herbert  decided  that  he 
would  dispose  of  those  he  had  purchased  on  George's 
account.  Though  there  were  signs  of  a  diminishing 
interest  in  such  stock,  values  had  scarcely  begun  to  fall, 
and  having  made  his  position  secure,  he  did  not  wish 
his  cousin  to  incur  a  loss.  Accordingly  he  sent  in- 
structions to  sell  another  lot  of  shares. 

He  was  very  busy  the  next  day  when  a  telegram 
was  brought  him,  but  he  sat  still  for  some  minutes  con- 
sidering it.  The  market,  it  stated,  had  suddenly  fallen 
flat,  and  as  prices  were  giving  way  sharply,  further 
orders  were  requested.  The  change  Herbert  had 
foreseen  had  come  a  little  sooner  than  he  had  ex- 
pected. He  still  held  some  shares,  which  he  had 
thought  of  keeping,  because  it  might,  after  all,  prove 
judicious  to  retain  a  degree  of  control  in  the  company, 
and  having  sold  the  rest  at  a  good  profit,  a  moderate 
fall  in  their  value  would  be  of  less  consequence.  The 
drop,  however,  was  marked,  and  he  decided  to  further 
reduce  the  quantity  standing  in  his  name,  instead  of 
realizing  those  belonging  to  his  cousin.  George  must 


i8o  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

take  his  chance;  and  the  market  might  rally.  As  a 
result  of  these  reflections  he  wired  his  broker  to  sell, 
and  in  a  few  hours  received  an  answer. 

"  Sale  effected  within  limit  given,  market  since 
broken  badly,  expect  slump." 

Herbert  saw  that  he  had  acted  with  prudence, 
though  it  was  evident  that  his  cousin  had  incurred  a 
serious  loss.  He  was  sorry  for  this,  but  it  could  not 
be  helped. 

A  few  days  later  he  was  sitting  beside  the  fire  at 
home  after  his  evening  meal  when  Sylvia  entered  the 
room  in  his  wife's  absence.  She  stood  near  the  hearth, 
examining  some  embroidery  in  her  hand,  but  she 
looked  up  presently,  and  it  became  evident  that  she 
had  been  reading  the  papers. 

"  There  seems  to  be  a  sharp  fall  in  rubber  shares," 
she  said.  "  Will  it  affect  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Herbert,  "  not  seriously." 

"  I  suppose  that  means  you  must  have  anticipated 
the  fall  and  sold  out  —  unloaded,  I  think  you  call  it 
—  in  time  ?  " 

Herbert  did  not  wish  to  discuss  the  matter.  He 
had  already  had  one  or  two  trying  interviews  with  his 
business  colleagues,  and  the  opinions  they  had  ex- 
pressed about  him  still  rankled  in  his  mind.  He  was 
not  particularly  sensitive,  but  the  subject  was  an  un- 
pleasant one. 

"  Something  of  the  kind,"  he  answered.  "  One  has 
to  take  precautions." 

Sylvia  laughed. 

"  One  could  imagine  your  taking  them.  You're  not 
the  man  to  be  caught  at  a  disadvantage,  are  you?  " 


A  FORCED  RETIREMENT  181 

"  Well,"  he  said  dryly,  "  it's  a  thing  I  try  to  avoid." 

Sylvia  sat  down,  as  if  she  meant  to  continue  the 
conversation,  which  was  far  from  what  he  desired,  but 
he  could  not  be  discourteous. 

"  Had  George  any  shares  in  your  company  ?  "  she 
asked. 

There  was  no  way  of  avoiding  a  reply,  without 
arousing  her  suspicions;  Herbert  knew  that  she  was 
keen-witted  and  persistent. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  he  had  a  quantity." 

"  Have  those  shares  been  sold  ?  " 

This  was  a  more  troublesome  question,  but  Herbert 
was  compelled  to  answer. 

"  No ;  not  yet.  It's  unfortunate  that  the  market 
broke  before  I  could  get  rid  of  them,  but  it  may  rally. 
I'm  rather  disturbed  about  the  matter;  but,  after  all, 
one  has  to  take  one's  chance  in  buying  shares.  Deal- 
ing in  the  speculative  sorts  is  to  a  large  extent  a  game 
of  hazard." 

"  I  suppose  so,  but  then  somebody  must  win." 

"  No,"  returned  Herbert,  "  now  and  then  everybody 
loses." 

Sylvia  glanced  at  him  with  a  mocking  smile. 

"Even  those  in  the  inside  ring?  When  that  hap- 
pens, it  must  be  something  like  a  catastrophe.  But 
I'm  sorry  for  George;  he  doesn't  deserve  this." 

Herbert  could  not  deny  it;  but,  to  his  surprise,  the 
girl  leaned  forward,  speaking  in  an  authoritative  tone. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  can  do,  but  you  must  do 
something  to  get  George  out  of  the  difficulty.  It's 
obvious  that  you  led  him  into  it  —  he  isn't  the  man 
to  go  in  for  rash  speculation;  he  would  have  chosen 
something  safe." 


182  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

It  was  a  relief  to  Herbert  that  his  wife  came  in  just 
then;  but,  as  he  had  reason  for  believing  that  she 
would  not  remain,  he  decided  that  he  would  go  out  and 
post  some  letters.  Sylvia  seemed  to  be  in  an  inquisi- 
tive mood,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  be  left  alone  with 
her. 

The  night  was  fine  but  dark;  in  places  a  thin,  low- 
lying  mist  that  hung  over  the  meadows  obscured  the 
hedgerows,  and  it  grew  more  dense  as  Herbert  ap- 
proached the  river,  which  brawled  noisily  among  the 
stones.  The  man,  however,  scarcely  noticed  this ;  his 
mind  was  occupied  with  other  matters.  Sylvia's  atti- 
tude had  disturbed  him.  She  was  useful  as  an  ally, 
but  she  could  not  be  allowed  to  criticize  his  conduct 
or  to  give  him  orders.  Moreover,  he  had  reasons  for 
believing  that  investors  in  his  company  might  share 
her  views,  and  he  looked  for  serious  trouble  with  two 
or  three  gentlemen  who  blamed  him  for  their  losses, 
and  had  so  far  incivilly  refused  to  be  pacified  by  his 
explanations. 

Herbert  was  of  a  philosophic  disposition,  and  real- 
ized that  one  must  not  expect  too  much.  Having 
made  a  handsome  profit,  he  felt  that  he  ought  to  be 
content,  and  bear  a  certain  amount  of  suspicion  and 
contumely  with  unruffled  good-humor.  For  all  that, 
he  found  it  disagreeable  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  trick- 
ster, and  it  was  worse  when  his  disgusted  associates 
used  more  offensive  epithets  in  his  presence. 

He  was  considering  how  he  should  deal  with  them 
when  he  entered  a  thicker  belt  of  mist.  It  shut  him  in 
so  that  he  could  see  nothing  ahead,  but  there  was  a 
strong  fence  between  him  and  the  river,  and  he  went 
on,  lost  in  thought,  until  the  mist  was  suddenly  il- 


A  FORCED  RETIREMENT  183 

luminated  and  a  bright  light  flashed  along  the  road. 
The  hoot  of  a  motor-horn  broke  out  behind  him,  and, 
rudely  startled,  he  sprang  aside.  He  was  too  late; 
somebody  cried  out  in  warning,  and  the  next  moment 
he  was  conscious  of  a  blow  that  flung  him  bodily  for- 
ward. He  came  down  with  a  crash;  something 
seemed  to  grind  him  into  the  stones ;  there  was  a  stab- 
bing pain  in  his  side,  and  he  lost  consciousness. 

Fortunately,  the  big  car  was  promptly  stopped,  and 
two  men  sprang  down.  An  indistinct  object  lay  just 
behind  the  forward  pair  of  wheels,  and  in  anxious 
haste  they  dragged  it  clear  and  into  the  glare  of  the 
lamps.  Herbert's  hat  had  fallen  off;  he  was  scarcely 
breathing,  and  his  face  was  ghastly  white;  but  one  of 
the  men  recognized  him. 

"  It's  Lansing,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Seems  badly  hurt, 
though  I'd  nearly  pulled  her  up  when  she  struck  him." 

"  He  was  dragged  some  way ;  jacket  must  have 
caught  the  starting  crank  or  something;  but  that 
doesn't  matter  now."  He  raised  his  voice.  "  Dread- 
fully sorry,  Mr.  Lansing;  can  you  hear  me?  " 

There  was  no  answer,  and  the  man  shook  his  head. 

"  I'm  afraid  this  is  serious." 

His  companion  looked  unnerved,  but  he  roused  him- 
self with  an  effort. 

"  It  is,  and  we're  behaving  like  idiots,  wasting  time 
that  may  be  valuable.  Get  hold  and  lift  him  in;  his 
house  is  scarcely  a  mile  away." 

They  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  the  unconscious 
man  into  the  car;  and  then  its  owner  backed  it  twice 
into  a  bank  before  he  succeeded  in  turning  round,  but 
in  three  or  four  minutes  they  carried  Herbert  into 
Brantholme,  and  afterward  drove  away  at  top  speed 


184  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

in  search  of  assistance.  It  was,  however,  an  hour  later 
when  they  returned  with  a  doctor,  and  he  looked  grave 
after  he  had  examined  his  patient. 

"  Your  husband  has  two  ribs  broken,"  he  told  Mrs. 
Lansing.  "  In  a  way,  that's  not  very  serious,  but  he 
seems  to  be  prostrated  by  the  shock.  There  are  a 
few  things  that  must  be  done  at  once ;  and  then  we'll 
have  to  keep  him  as  quiet  as  possible." 

It  was  two  hours  later  when  he  left  the  house,  prom- 
ising to  return  early  the  next  day  with  a  nurse;  and 
Herbert  lay,  still  and  unconscious,  in  a  dimly  lighted 
room. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

HERBERT  IS  PATIENT 

the  second  morning  after  the  accident,  Herbert, 
lying  stiffly  swathed  in  bandages,  opened  his  eyes 
in  a  partly  darkened  room.  A  nurse  was  standing 
near  a  table,  and  when  the  injured  man  painfully 
turned  his  head,  the  doctor,  who  had  been  speaking  to 
her,  came  toward  him. 

"  I  think  we  can  let  you  talk  a  little  now,"  he  said. 
"How  do  you  feel?"  " 

Herbert's  face  relaxed  into  a  feeble  smile. 

"  Very  far  from  happy.  I  suppose  I've  been  badly 
knocked  about  ?  " 

"  I've  treated  more  serious  cases,  and  you'll  get  over 
it.  But  you'll  have  to  reconcile  yourself  to  lying  quiet 
for  a  long  while." 

Herbert  made  no  reply  to  this,  but  his  expression 
suggested  that  he  was  trying  to  think. 

"  Has  the  thing  got  into  the  papers  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  doctor  was  a  little  surprised ;  it  seemed  a  curious 
point  for  his  patient  to  take  an  interest  in,  but  he  was 
willing  to  indulge  him. 

"  It's  early  yet,  but  one  of  the  Courier  people  stopped 
me  as  I  was  driving  out  and  I  gave  him  a  few  particu- 
lars. You  can't  hush  the  matter  up." 

"No,"    said    Herbert.     "You    did    quite    right. 

185 


1 86  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Hadn't  you  better  mention  exactly  what's  the  matter 
with  me  ?  " 

"  If  I  did,  you  wouldn't  understand  it,"  said  the 
doctor,  who  generally  adopted  a  cheerful,  half-humor- 
ous tone.  "  In  plain  English,  you  have  two  ribs 
broken,  besides  a  number  of  contusions,  and  I'm  in- 
clined to  suspect  your  nervous  system  has  received  a 
nasty  shock." 

"And  the  cure?" 

"  Complete  rest,  patience,  and  perhaps  a  change  of 
scene  when  you're  able  to  get  about." 

"  That  means  I'll  have  to  drop  all  active  interest  in 
my  business  for  some  time?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  so ;  by  and  by  we'll  consider  when  you 
can  resume  it." 

It  struck  the  doctor  that  Herbert  was  not  displeased 
with  the  information;  and  that  seemed  strange,  con- 
sidering that  he  was  a  busy,  energetic  man.  He  lay 
silent  a  while  with  an  undisturbed  expression. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  would  write  a  telegram  and  a  let- 
ter for  me  ?  "  he  asked  at  length. 

"  With  pleasure,  if  you  don't  think  you  have  talked 
enough.  Can't  you  wait  until  to-morrow?  " 

"  I'll  feel  easier  when  I've  got  it  off  my  mind." 

The  doctor  thought  this  likely.  He  made  a  sign  of 
acquiescence  and  took  out  his  notebook;  and  Herbert 
give  him  the  rubber  company's  London  address  and 
then  dictated: 

"  Regret  I  am  incapacitated  for  business  for  indefi- 
nite period  by  motor  accident.  If  advisable  appoint 
nerv  director  in  my  place  before  shareholders'  meeting, 
'which  cannot  attend.  Compelled  to  remain  in  strict 
quietness" 


HERBERT  IS  PATIENT  187 

"  You  might  send  these  people  a  short  note,"  he 
added,  "  stating  that  I'm  submitting  to  your  advice, 
and  giving  them  a  few  particulars  about  my  injuries." 

"  I'll  be  glad  to  do  so." 

"  Then  there's  only  another  thing.  I'd  like  some 
notice  of  the  accident  put  into  a  leading  London  paper 
—  it  will  explain  my  retirement  to  people  who  would 
soon  begin  to  wonder  why  I  wasn't  at  my  post." 

"  It  shall  be  attended  to ;  but  I  scarcely  think  Mr. 
Phillips  and  his  motoring  friend  will  appreciate  the 
notoriety  you  will  confer  on  them." 

Herbert  smiled. 

"  There's  no  reason  why  I  should  consider  Phillips. 
If  he  will  drive  furiously  in  the  dark  and  run  over 
people  —  this  isn't  his  first  accident  —  he  must  take 
the  consequences.  But  you  can  tell  him,  with  my 
compliments,  that  I'll  let  him  off,  if  he'll  be  more  cau- 
tious in  future.  Now  I  feel  that  I'd  like  to  rest  or  go 
to  sleep  again." 

The  doctor  went  out  somewhat  puzzled  —  his  pa- 
tient seemed  singularly  resigned  to  inaction  and  glad 
to  escape  from  commercial  affairs,  instead  of  chafing 
at  his  misfortune.  After  exchanging  a  few  words 
with  Mrs.  Lansing,  he  met  Sylvia  in  the  hall. 

"  How  is  he  this  morning?  "  she  asked. 

"  Better  than  I  expected,  able  to  take  an  interest  in 
things.  I  was  glad  to  find  him  so  acquiescent  —  it 
isn't  usual.  He  didn't  seem  disturbed  when  he  asked 
me  to  write  a  telegram  expressing  his  willingness  to 
give  up  his  director's  post." 

He  had  not  mentioned  this  matter  to  Mrs.  Lansing. 
In  several  ways  Sylvia  struck  him  as  being  the  more 
capable  woman,  though  this  was  not  the  impression 


188  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

her  appearance  had  upon  the  less  practised  observers. 
She  looked  thoughtful  at  his  news. 

"  I  suppose  such  a  course  is  necessary,"  she  re- 
marked. 

"  I  believe  it's  advisable;  that  is,  if  there's  any  like- 
lihood that  his  duties  will  make  much  demand  on  him 
for  some  time  to  come." 

Sylvia  changed  the  subject. 

"  Have  you  any  particular  instructions  ?  " 

"  None  beyond  those  I've  given  the  nurse.  Quiet- 
ness is  the  great  thing;  but  it  doesn't  look  as  if  he'll 
cause  you  much  trouble." 

The  prediction  was  justified.  With  the  exception 
of  a  few  complaints  about  his  physical  discomfort, 
Herbert  displayed  an  exemplary  patience  and  soon  be- 
gan to  improve,  for  his  recovery  was  assisted  by  the 
tranquil  state  of  his  mind.  The  accident  had  hap- 
pened at  a  very  opportune  time :  it  furnished  an  excel- 
lent excuse  for  withdrawing  from  an  embarrassing 
situation  and  it  would  save  his  credit,  if,  as  seemed 
probable,  difficulties  shortly  threatened  the  rubber 
company.  It  would  look  as  if  any  trouble  that  might 
fall  upon  the  concern  was  the  result  of  his  having  been 
forced  to  relinquish  control,  and  nobody  could  ration- 
ally blame  him  for  being  run  over. 

He  was  lying  in  a  sunny  room  one  afternoon  when 
two  gentlemen  were  shown  in.  One  was  the  caller 
with  whom  he  had  an  interview  in  his  office  before  the 
accident.  They  inquired  about  his  progress  with 
rather  forced  courtesy ;  and  then  one  of  them  said : 

"  We  looked  in  on  the  doctor  who  wrote  to  us  about 
your  injury  before  we  came  here,  and  he  told  us  you 


HERBERT  IS  PATIENT  189 

were  strong  enough  for  a  little  quiet  conversation. 
We  haven't  appointed  another  director  yet." 

"  Then  you  had  better  do  so,"  Herbert  advised. 

"  You  mean  to  stick  to  your  withdrawal  ?  You're 
the  only  person  who  can  pull  the  company  out  of  its 
difficulties." 

"  Has  it  got  into  any  difficulties  ?  "  Herbert  inquired. 
"  You  see^  I've  been  compelled  to  give  orders  for  all 
correspondence  to  be  dealt  with  at  the  London  office, 
and  I'm  advised  not  to  read  the  financial  papers  or  any- 
thing that  might  have  a  disturbing  effect." 

The  man  who  had  not  yet  spoken  betrayed  some 
impatience. 

"  We're  up  to  the  eyes  in  trouble,  as  you  must  have 
guessed.  Have  you  asked  yourself  what  the  body  of 
the  shareholders  are  likely  to  think  ?  " 

"  It's  fairly  obvious.  They'll  consider  it  a  misfor- 
tune that  I  was  knocked  over  shortly  before  a  crit- 
ical time;  possibly  they'll  attribute  everything  un- 
satisfactory in  the  company's  affairs  to  my  not  being 
in  charge." 

One  of  the  visitors  glanced  meaningly  at  his  com- 
panion. There  was  truth  in  what  Lansing  said.  The 
angry  shareholders  would  not  discriminate  carefully; 
they  would  blame  the  present  directors,  who  would 
have  to  face  a  serious  loss  while  Lansing  had  made  a 
profit.  It  was  a  galling  situation;  and  what  made  it 
worse  was  that  Lansing's  expression  hinted  that  he 
found  it  somewhat  humorous. 

'  The  f^ct  that  you  sold  out  so  soon  before  the  fall 
will  have  its  significance,"  said  the  first  man.  "  The 
thing  has  a  suspicious  look." 


190  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  must  risk  a  certain  amount  of  misconception," 
Herbert  replied  languidly.  "  I  may  as  well  point  out 
that  I  still  hold  the  shares  required  as  a  director's 
qualification,  which  is  all  it  was  necessary  for  me  to 
do.  Was  it  your  intention  to  keep  the  stock  you  hold 
permanently  ?  " 

They  could  not  answer  him,  and  he  smiled. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  all  intended  to  sell  off  a 
good  portion  as  soon  as  the  premium  justified  it;  the 
only  difference  of  opinion  was  about  the  point  it  must 
reach,  and  that,  of  course,  was  a  matter  of  tempera- 
ment. Well,  I  was  lucky  enough  to  get  rid  of  part 
of  my  stock  at  a  profit ;  and  there  was  nothing  to  pre- 
vent your  doing  the  same.  Instead  of  that,  you  held 
on  until  the  drop  came;  it  was  an  imprudence  for 
which  you  can't  blame  me." 

"  Our  complaint  is  that  you  foresaw  the  fall  and 
never  said  a  word." 

"  Granted.  Why  didn't  you  foresee  it  ?  You  had 
the  right  of  access  to  all  the  information  in  my  hands ; 
you  could  inspect  accounts  in  the  London  office;  I 
suppose  you  read  the  financial  papers.  It  would  have 
been  presumptuous  if  I'd  recommended  you  to  sell, 
and  my  forecast  might  have  proved  incorrect.  In 
that  case  you  would  have  blamed  me  for  losing  your 
money." 

This  was  incontestable.  Though  they  knew  he  had 
betrayed  them,  Lansing's  position  was  too  strong  to  be 
assailed. 

'*  You  might  have  mentioned  that  you  contemplated 
retiring  from  the  board,"  one  remarked.  "  Then  we 
would  have  known  what  to  expect." 

"  A  little  reflection  will  show  the  futility  of  your 


HERBERT  IS  PATIENT  191 

suggestion.  How  could  I  contemplate  being  run  over 
by  a  motor-car?  " 

"  \Yell,"  said  the  second  man  in  a  grim  tone,  "  you 
can't  deny  the  accident  was  in  some  respects  a  for- 
tunate one  for  you." 

"  I'm  doubtful  whether  you  would  have  appreciated 
it,  in  my  place.  But  you  don't  seem  to  realize  that 
I'm  withdrawing  from  the  board  because  I'm  incapac- 
itated for  the  duties." 

Then  the  nurse,  to  whom  Herbert  had  given  a  hint, 
came  in;  and  he  made  a  sign  of  resignation,  quite  as 
though  overpowered  by  regret. 

"  I'm  sorry  I'm  not  allowed  to  talk  very  much  yet. 
Will  you  have  a  cigar  and  some  refreshment  before 
you  leave-  " 

His  visitors  rose,  and  one  of  them  turned  to  him 
with  a  curious  expression. 

"  No,  thanks,"  he  said  pointedly.  "  Considering 
everything.  I  don't  think  we'll  give  you  the  trouble." 

"With  a  few  conventional  words  they  withdrew,  and 
Herbert  smiled  at  the  nurse. 

"  I  believe  Dr.  Rallin  was  most  concerned  about  the 
injury  to  my  nerves,"  he  said.  "  Have  you  noticed 
anything  wrong  with  them?" 

"  Not  lately.     They  seem  to  be  in  a  normal  state." 

"  That."  said  Herbert.  "  is  my  own  opinion.  You 
wouldn't  imagine  that  Fnad  just  finished  a  rather  try- 
ing interview  ?  " 

"  No ;  you  look  more  amused  than  upset.'* 

"  There  was  something  humorous  in  the  situation ; 
that's  often  the  ease  \\hen  you  see  greedy  people  wast- 
ing effort  and  ingenuity.  Perhaps  you  heard  my  vis- 
itors expressing  their  anxiety  about  my  health,  though 


I92  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

I've  a  suspicion  that  they  felt  more  like  wishing  the 
car  had  made  an  end  of  me." 

The  nurse  laughed  and  told  him  that  he  had  better 
rest;  and  Herbert  lay  back  upon  the  cushions  she  ar- 
ranged, with  calm  content. 

During  the  evening,  Sylvia  entered  the  room, 
dressed  a  little  more  carefully  than  usual,  and  Herbert 
glanced  at  her  with  appreciation. 

"  You  look  charming,  though  that's  your  normal 
state,"  he  said.  "  Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  With  Muriel,  to  dine  with  the  Wests ;  have  you 
forgotten?  But  I  came  in  because  Muriel  told  me 
you  had  a  letter  from  George  by  the  last  post." 

"  So  you're  still  interested  in  his  doings,"  Herbert 
rejoined. 

"Of  course.     Does  that  surprise  you?  " 

"  I  was  beginning  to  think  there  was  some  risk  of 
your  forgetting  him,  which,  perhaps,  wouldn't  be  al- 
together unnatural.  He's  a  long  way  off,  which  has 
often  its  effect,  and  there's  no  denying  the  fact  that  in 
many  respects  you  and  he  are  different." 

"  Doesn't  the  same  thing  apply  to  you  and  Muriel  ? 
Everybody  knows  you  get  on  excellently  in  spite  of 
it" 

Herbert  laughed.  He  was  aware  that  his  friends 
had  wondered  why  he  had  married  Muriel,  and  sus- 
pected that  some  of  them  believed  her  money  had 
tempted  him.  Nevertheless,  he  made  her  an  affection- 
ate as  well  as  a  considerate  husband.  In  business  mat- 
ters he  practised  the  easy  morality  of  a  hungry  beast 
of  prey,  but  he  had  his  virtues. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  that's  true.  Do  you  find  it  en- 
couraging?" 


HERBERT  IS  PATIENT  193 

Sylvia  had  felt  a  little  angry,  though  she  had  known 
that  it  was  seldom  wise  to  provoke  her  host. 

Without  waiting  for  her  answer  he  continued,  half 
seriously :  '  There's  often  one  person  who  thinks 
better  of  us  than  we  deserve,  and  I  dare  say  I'm 
fortunate  in  that  respect.  In  such  a  case,  one  feels  it 
an  obligation  not  to  abuse  that  person's  confidence." 

A  slight  flush  crept  into  Sylvia's  face.  George  be- 
lieved in  her  and  she  was  very  shabbily  rewarding  his 
trust. 

"  I'm  surprised  to  hear  you  moralizing.  It's  not  a 
habit  of  yours,"  she  remarked. 

"No,"  said  Herbert,  pointedly;  "though  it  may 
now  and  then  make  one  feel  a  little  uncomfortable,  it 
seldom  does  much  good.  But  we  were  talking  about 
G«orge.  He  tells  me  that  winter's  beginning  unusu- 
ally soon;  they've  had  what  he  calls  a  severe  cold 
snap  and  the  prairie's  deep  with  snow.  He  bought 
some  more  stock  and  young  horses  as  an  offset  to  the 
bad  harvest,  and  he's  doubtful  whether  he  has  put  up 
hay  enough.  West  and  he  are  busy  hauling  stove- 
wood  home  from  a  bluff ;  and  he  has  had  a  little  trou- 
ble with  some  shady  characters  as  a  result  of  his  taking 
part  in  a  temperance  campaign.  I  think  that's  all  he 
has  to  say." 

Sylvia  broke  into  half-incredulous  merriment. 

"  It's  hard  to  imagine  George  as  a  temperance  re- 
former. Think  of  him,  making  speeches!" 

"  Speeches  aren't  much  in  George's  line,"  Herbert 
admitted.  "  Still,  in  one  way,  I  wasn't  greatly  aston- 
ished at  the  news.  He's  just  the  man  to  be  drawn 
into  difficulties  he  might  avoid,  provided  that  somebody 
could  convince  him  the  thing  needed  doing." 


194  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Then  you  think  he  has  been  convinced  ?  " 

"  I  can  hardly  imagine  George's  setting  out  on  a 
work  of  the  kind  he  mentioned  without  some  persua- 
sion," said  Herbert  with  a  smile.  "  The  subject's  not 
one  he  ever  took  much  interest  in,  and  he's  by  no 
means  original." 

Sylvia  agreed  with  him,  but  she  was  silent  a  few 
moments,  reclining  in  an  easy  chair  before  the  cheerful 
fire,  while  she  glanced  round  the  room.  It  was  com- 
fortably furnished,  warm,  and  brightly  lighted;  a 
strong  contrast  to  the  lonely  Canadian  homestead  to 
which  her  thoughts  wandered.  She  could  recall  the 
unpolished  stove,  filling  the  place  with  its  curious,  un- 
pleasant smell,  and  the  icy  draughts  that  eddied  about 
it.  She  could  imagine  the  swish  of  driving  snow 
about  the  quivering  wooden  building  when  the  dreaded 
blizzards  raged;  the  strange,  oppressive  silence  when 
the  prairie  lay  still  in  the  grip  of  the  Arctic  frost ;  and 
George  coming  in  with  half- frozen  limbs  and  snow- 
dust  on  his  furs,  to  spend  the  dreary  evening  in  try- 
ing to  keep  warm.  The  picture  her  memory  painted 
was  vivid  and  it  had  a  disturbing  effect.  It  was  in 
her  service  that  the  man  was  toiling  in  western  Can- 
ada. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  rising  with  some  abruptness,  "  it's 
time  we  got  off.  I'd  better  see  if  Muriel  is  ready." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

BLAND  MAKES  A  SACRIFICE 

C  YLVIA  was  sitting  by  the  hearth  in  Ethel  West's 
^  drawing-room,  her  neatly  shod  feet  on  the  fender, 
her  low  chair  on  the  fleecy  rug,  and  she  made  a  very 
dainty  and  attractive  picture.  She  felt  the  cold  and 
hated  discomfort  of  any  kind,  though  it  was  charac- 
teristic of  her  that  she  generally  succeeded  in  avoiding 
it.  Ethel  sat  near  by,  watching  her  with  calmly  curi- 
ous eyes,  for  Sylvia  was  looking  pensive.  Mrs.  Lan- 
sing was  talking  to  Stephen  West  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  large  room. 

"  How  is  Edgar  getting  on  ?  "  Sylvia  asked.  "  I 
suppose  you  hear  from  him  now  and  then." 

Ethel  guessed  where  the  question  led  and  responded 
with  blunt  directness. 

"  Doesn't  George  write  to  you  ?  " 

"  Not  often.  Herbert  has  just  got  a  letter,  but 
there  was  very  little  information  in  it;  George  is  not 
a  brilliant  correspondent.  I  thought  Edgar  might 
have  written  by  the  same  mail." 

"  As  it  happens,  he  did,"  said  Ethel.  "  He  describes 
the  cold  as  fierce,  and  gives  some  interesting  details  of 
his  sensations  when  the  warmth  first  comes  back  to  his 
half-frozen  hands  or  limbs;  then  he  adds  a  vivid  ac- 
count of  a  blizzard  that  George  and  he  nearly  got  lost 
in." 

195 


196  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Things  of  that  kind  make  an  impression  on  a  new- 
comer," Sylvia  languidly  remarked.  "  One  gets  used 
to  them  after  a  while.  Did  he  say  anything  else?  " 

"  There  was  an  enthusiastic  description  of  a  girl  he 
has  met ;  he  declares  she's  a  paragon.  This,  of  course, 
is  nothing  new,  but  it's  a  little  astonishing  that  he 
doesn't  seem  to  contemplate  making  love  to  her  in  his 
usual  haphazard  manner.  She  seems  to  have  inspired 
him  with  genuine  respect." 

"  I  can't  think  of  any  girl  who's  likely  to  do  so." 

"  He  gives  her  name  —  Flora  Grant." 

Sylvia  betrayed  some  interest. 

"  I  knew  her  —  I  suppose  she  is  a  little  less  impos- 
sible than  the  rest.  But  go  on." 

"  One  gathers  that  George  is  having  an  anxious 
time;  Edgar  goes  into  some  obscure  details  about 
crops  and  cattle-raising.  Then  he  hints  at  some  ex- 
citing adventures  they  have  had  as  a  result  of  support- 
ing a  body  that's  trying  to  close  the  hotels." 

This  was  what  Sylvia  had  been  leading  up  to.  She 
agreed  with  Herbert  that  it  was  most  unlikely  George 
would  take  any  part  in  such  proceedings  without  some 
prompting,  and  she  was  curious  to  learn  who  had  in- 
fluenced him. 

"  There  was  a  word  or  two  in  Herbert's  letter  to 
the  same  effect,"  she  said.  "  The  thing  strikes  one 
as  amusing.  George,  of  course,  does  not  explain  why 
he  joined  these  people." 

A  smile  of  rather  malicious  satisfaction  crept  into 
Ethel's  eyes.  "  According  to  Edgar,  it  was  because 
his  neighbors,  the  Grants,  urged  it  The  father  of 
the  girl  he  mentioned  seems  to  be  a  leader  in  the  move- 
ment." 


BLAND  MAKES  A  SACRIFICE       197 

Sylvia  carefully  suppressed  any  sign  of  the  annoy- 
ance she  felt.  It  was,  of  course,  impossible  that 
George  should  be  seriously  attracted  by  Flora,  but  his 
action  implied  that  he  and  the  Grants  must  be  good 
friends.  No  doubt,  he  met  the  girl  every  now  and 
then,  and  they  had  much  in  common.  Sylvia  did  not 
mean  to  marry  George ;  but  it  was  pleasant  to  feel  that 
she  could  count  on  his  devotion,  and  she  resented  the 
idea  of  his  falling  under  the  influence  of  anybody  else. 
She  had  never  thought  of  Flora  as  dangerous  — 
George  was  so  steadfast  —  but  she  now  realized  that 
there  might,  perhaps,  be  some  slight  risk.  A  girl  situ- 
ated as  Flora  was  would,  no  doubt,  make  the  most  of 
her  opportunities.  Sylvia  grew  somewhat  angry;  she 
felt  she  was  being  badly  treated. 

"  After  all,"  she  said  calmly,  "  I  suppose  there's  no 
reason  why  George  shouldn't  set  up  as  a  reformer  if  it 
pleases  him.  It  must,  however,  be  rather  a  novelty 
for  your  brother." 

Ethel  laughed. 

"  I  believe  it's  the  excitement  that  has  tempted  him. 
Still,  if  George  is  taking  any  active  part  in  the  matter, 
Edgar  will  probably  find  it  more  than  a  light  diver- 
sion." Then  she  changed  the  subject.  "  Did  I  tell 
you  that  we  expect  Captain  Bland  to-night  ?  " 

Sylvia  started  slightly.  She  was  aware  that  Ethel 
took  what  could  best  be  described  as  an  unsympathetic 
interest  in  her  affairs,  but  the  sudden  reference  to 
Bland  threw  her  off  her  guard. 

"  No,"  she  said.  "  Though  you  have  met  him,  I 
didn't  think  you  knew  him  well." 

"  I  believe  it's  chiefly  a  business  visit.  Stephen,  you 
know,  has  some  reputation  as  a  commercial  lawyer, 


198  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

and  Bland  couldn't  arrange  to  see  him  in  town.     Any- 
way, he  should  be  here  soon." 

Bland  arrived  half  an  hour  later,  but  was  unable  to 
do  more  than  shake  hands  with  Sylvia  before  West 
took  him  away  to  another  room.  It  was  some  time 
before  they  returned;  and  then  West  kept  the  party 
engaged  in  general  conversation  until  it  broke  up. 

"  I'll  walk  down  the  road  with  you,"  he  said  to 
Mrs.  Lansing,  and  afterward  turned  to  Bland.  "  How 
are  you  going  to  get  back  ?  " 

Bland  said  that  the  man  who  had  driven  him  from 
the  station  was  waiting  in  the  neighboring  village, 
and  when  they  left  the  house  he  walked  on  with  Syl- 
via, leaving  Mrs.  Lansing  and  West  to  follow.  It 
was  a  clear  night,  with  a  chill  of  frost  in  the  air.  A 
bright  half-moon  hung  above  the  shadowy  hills,  and 
the  higher  boughs  of  the  bare  trees  cut  in  sharp  tracery 
against  the  sky.  Dead  leaves  lay  thick  upon  the  road 
and  here  and  there  a  belt  of  mist  trailed  across  a 
meadow.  Sylvia,  however,  did  not  respond  when  her 
companion  said  something  about  the  charm  of  the 
walk. 

"  Why  didn't  you  send  me  word  you  were  coming?  " 
she  asked. 

"  I  didn't  know  until  this  morning,  when  I  got  a 
note  from  West,  and  I  must  be  back  in  time  for  to- 
morrow's parade.  Besides,  you  told  me  at  the  junc- 
tion that  I  was  not  to  be  allowed  to  meet  you  again 
for  some  time." 

Sylvia  smiled  at  him. 

"  Haven't  you  found  out  that  you  needn't  take 
everything  I  say  too  literally?  " 

Bland  stopped,  pressing  the  hand  on  his  arm. 


BLAND  MAKES  A  SACRIFICE        199 

"  Does  that  apply  to  all  you  said  on  the  evening 
when  we  sat  outside  the  inn  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Sylvia  firmly.  "  It  does  not ; 
please  understand  that.  I  must  stick  to  what  I  told 
you  then."  She  paused,  and  they  heard  the  soft  fall 
of  approaching  feet  before  she  resumed  with  a  laugh : 
"  Go  on,  if  you  don't  want  the  others  to  think  we  are 
waiting  for  them." 

Bland  obeyed,  a  little  soothed,  though  he  saw  she 
was  not  yet  ready  to  allow  a  renewal  of  his  pleading. 
Sylvia  had  obviously  meant  that  she  wished  to  be  left 
alone  with  him. 

"  Why  did  you  call  on  Stephen  West?  "  she  asked, 
presently. 

"  I'd  meant  to  tell  you.  But,  first  of  all,  is  Lansing 
still  connected  with  the  rubber  company  ?  West  didn't 
seem  very  well  informed  upon  the  point." 

"  Neither  am  I,"  replied  Sylvia  thoughtfully.  "  I 
only  know  he  hasn't  the  large  interest  in  it  that  he 
had." 

"  Then  I'll  have  to  explain,  because  I  don't  know 
what  to  do.  Lansing  gave  me  a  tip  to  buy  some 
shares,  and  when  some  friends  said  I'd  got  a  good 
thing,  I  went  to  him  again.  I  must  say  he  was  pretty 
guarded,  but  I  got  a  hint  and  acted  on  it,  with  the  re- 
sult that  I  have  dropped  a  good  deal  of  money.  This," 
he  added  deprecatingly,  "  is  not  the  kind  of  thing  I 
should  talk  to  you  about,  but  I  was  told  that  Lansing 
couldn't  receive  any  callers,  and  you'll  see  why  you 
should  know." 

"  I'm  beginning  to  understand." 

"  Well,"  said  Bland,  "  shortly  after  Lansing's  acci- 
dent, I  wrote  to  the  secretary,  asking  some  questions, 


200  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

and  he  doesn't  seem  to  have  been  cautious  enough  in 
his  answer  —  I  have  it  here.  There  has  been  trouble 
about  the  company,  and  I  attended  a  meeting  of  some 
disgusted  people  who  had  put  their  money  into  it. 
They  think  they  might  get  part  of  it  back  by  attacking 
the  promoters,  and  I'm  told  that  my  letter  would  help 
them  materially." 

"  Do  you  want  to  help  them  ?  " 

"  In  a  way,  it's  natural,"  said  Bland  with  signs  of 
warmth.  "  I  don't  see  why  those  fellows  should  be 
allowed  to  get  off  after  tricking  people  out  of  the 
money  they've  painfully  earned." 

"  How  much  money  have  you  ever  earned  ?  " 

Bland  laughed. 

"  You  have  me  there ;  I  haven't  been  able  to  buy 
shares  out  of  my  pay.  But  I  made  a  pot  by  taking 
long  chances  when  I  backed  an  outside  horse.  It 
comes  to  much  the  same  thing." 

"  I  don't  think  it  does,"  said  Sylvia,  with  a  smile. 
"  But  it  strikes  me  that  your  explanation  isn't  quite 
complete." 

"  I  went  to  West,  instead  of  to  another  lawyer,  be- 
cause I  thought  he  would  be  acquainted  with  Lansing's 
present  position;  but,  while  he  agreed  that  the  letter 
might  be  valuable  to  the  objectors,  he  couldn't  help  me. 
The  end  of  it  is  that  I  don't  want  to  do  anything  that 
might  hurt  Lansing." 

Sylvia  reflected.  She  hardly  thought  his  loss  would 
seriously  embarrass  Bland;  she  owed  Herbert  some- 
thing and  might  need  his  aid,  and  she  did  not  wish  any 
discredit  to  be  cast  upon  a  connection  of  hers. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  believe  Herbert  is  still  to 
some  extent  connected  with  the  company ;  he  can  hardly 


BLAND  MAKES  A  SACRIFICE       201 

have  withdrawn  altogether.  Anyway,  he  had  a  large 
interest  in  it,  and  I  think  its  management  was  in  his 
hands.  He  might  suffer,  so  to  speak,  retrospectively." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bland,  "  that  didn't  strike  me.  You're 
right ;  there's  only  one  course  open."  He  took  a  paper 
from  his  pocket  and  handed  it  to  her.  "  Give  that  to 
Lansing,  and  tell  him  he  may  do  what  he  thinks  fit 
with  it." 

"  You're  very  generous,"  said  Sylvia,  coloring  as 
she  took  the  letter. 

"  I'm  afraid  I've  behaved  badly  in  not  keeping  the 
thing  from  you ;  but  you  see  how  I  was  situated,  and 
you'll  have  to  forgive  me." 

"  That  isn't  difficult,"  Sylvia  told  him. 

They  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  while;  and  then 
Bland  looked  around  at  her. 

"  There's  a  thing  I  must  mention.  I've  had  a  hint 
to  ask  for  a  certain  post  abroad.  It  is  not  a  very  de- 
sirable one  in  some  respects,  but  the  pay's  pretty  good, 
and  it  would  bring  the  man  who  took  it  under  the  no- 
tice of  people  who  arrange  the  better  Government 
appointments.  I  should  have  to  stay  out  at  least  two 
years." 

Sylvia  was  startled,  and  annoyed.  Now  that  the 
man  owned  her  sway,  she  did  not  mean  to  accede  to 
his  wishes  too  readily.  Some  obscure  reason  made 
her  shrink  from  definitely  binding  herself  to  him,  but 
his  intimation  had  forced  on  something  of  the  nature 
of  a  crisis. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  go?"  she  asked. 

"  No,"  he  said  hotly ;  "  you  know  that." 

"  Then,"  said  Sylvia  s&ftly,  "  I  think  you  had  bet- 
ter stay  at  home." 


202  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

He  stopped  again  and  faced  her. 

"  You  must  tell  me  what  you  mean !  " 

"  It  ought  to  be  clear/'  she  murmured.  "  Don't 
you  think  I  should  miss  you?  " 

With  restrained  quietness  he  laid  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder. 

"  You  must  listen  for  a  minute,  Sylvia.  Up  to  the 
present,  I've  been  passed  over  by  the  authorities;  but 
now  I've  been  given  my  chance.  If  I  can  hammer 
the  raw  native  levies  into  shape  and  keep  order  along 
a  disturbed  frontier,  it  will  lead  to  something  better. 
Now,  I'm  neither  a  military  genius  nor  altogether  a 
careless  idler  —  I  believe  I  can  do  this  work;  but, 
coming  rather  late,  it  has  less  attraction  for  me.  Well, 
I  would  let  the  chance  slip,  for  one  reason  only;  but 
if  I'm  to  go  on  continually  repressing  myself  and  only 
allowed  to  see  you  at  long  intervals,  I  might  as  well 
go  away.  You  must  clearly  understand  on  what  terms 
I  remain." 

She  made  a  little  appealing  gesture. 

"  Yes,"  she  said ;  "  but  you  must  wait  and  not  press 
me  too  hard.  I  am  so  fenced  in  by  conventions;  so 
many  people's  susceptibilities  have  to  be  considered. 
I  haven't  a  girl's  liberty." 

Bland  supposed  this  was  as  far  as  she  ventured  in 
allusion  to  her  widowed  state;  but,  stirred  as  he  was 
by  her  implied  submission,  it  struck  him  as  significant 
that  she  should  so  clearly  recognize  the  restrictions 
conventionality  imposed  on  her. 

"  I  think,"  he  returned,  "  the  two  people  who  de- 
serve most  consideration  are  you  and  myself." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Sylvia,  "  you  deserve  it  most.  You 
have  been  very  forbearing;  you  have  done  all  I  asked. 


BLAND  MAKES  A  SACRIFICE       203 

That  is  why  I  know  you  will  bear  with  a  little  delay, 
when  it's  needful." 

He  made  a  sign  of  reluctant  assent ;  and  then,  to  his 
annoyance,  two  figures  emerged  from  the  shadow  of 
the  trees  not  far  away.  There  was  nothing  to  do  ex- 
cept to  move  on,  but  he  thrilled  at  the  slight,  grateful 
pressure  of  Sylvia's  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  most  devoutly  that 
West  or  Mrs.  Lansing  had  been  lame." 

Sylvia  broke  into  a  ripple  of  laughter,  which  some- 
how seemed  to  draw  them  closer.  At  Herbert's  gate 
they  separated,  and  Bland  walked  on  in  an  exultant 
mood  which  was  broken  by  fits  of  thoughtfulness. 
Sylvia  had  tacitly  pledged  herself  to  him,  but  he  was 
still  her  unacknowledged  lover  and  the  position  was 
irksome.  Then  he  remembered  her  collectedness. 
which  had  been  rather  marked,  but  he  had  learned  that 
emotion  is  more  frequently  concealed  than  forcibly  ex- 
pressed. Moreover,  he  had  never  imagined  that  Syl- 
via was  wholly  free  from  faults;  he  suspected  that 
there  was  a  vein  of  calculating  coldness  in  her,  though 
it  caused  him  no  concern.  Bland  was  a  man  of  ex- 
perience who  had  acquired  a  good-humored  toleration 
with  the  knowledge  that  one  must  not  expect  too  much 
from  human  nature. 

While  Bland  was  being  driven  to  the  station,  Sylvia 
entered  the  room  where  Herbert  lay,  and  handed  him 
the  letter. 

"  Captain  Bland  came  in  during  the  evening  to  see 
Stephen  and  sent  you  this,"  she  said.  "  He  told  me 
you  were  to  do  what  you  thought  fit  with  it." 

Herbert  perused  the  letter,  and  then  reaching  out 
with  some  difficulty,  flung  it  into  the  fire. 


204  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I've  taken  him  at  his  word,"  he  said.  "  Have  you 
read  the  thing?" 

"  No ;  I  fear  the  details  would  have  puzzled  me ; 
but  I  understand  its  general  import.  How  was  it  your 
secretary  was  so  careless  ?  " 

Herbert  smiled. 

"  The  man's  smart  enough,  as  a  rule ;  but  we  all  have 
our  weak  moments.  This,  however,  is  not  the  kind  of 
thing  that's  likely  to  lead  to  his  advancement."  He 
lay  quiet  for  a  moment  or  two;  and  then  went  on: 
"  I'm  grateful  to  you.  Had  you  much  trouble  in  per- 
suading Bland  to  let  you  have  the  letter  ?  " 

"  No;  he  offered  it  voluntarily." 

"  Then  the  man  must  have  been  desperately  anxious 
to  please  you.  It  looks  as  if  his  condition  were  get- 
ting serious." 

"  I  resent  coarseness,"  exclaimed  Sylvia. 

Herbert  laughed. 

"  Oh,"  he  said,  "  you  and  I  can  face  the  truth.  As 
West's  a  lawyer,  Eland's  visit  to  him  is,  of  course, 
significant ;  the  man  knew  that  letter  might  have  been 
worth  something  in  hard  cash  to  him,  as  well  as  af- 
fording him  the  satisfaction  of  making  things  hot  for 
the  directors  of  the  company,  among  whom  I  was  in- 
cluded. He  would  hardly  have  parted  with  it  unless 
he  had  a  strong  inducement." 

"  His  motives  don't  concern  you,"  retorted  Sylvia. 
"  You  ought  to  appreciate  his  action." 

"  I  appreciate  it  as  sincerely  as  I  do  yours,  because 
you  must  have  shown  that  you  didn't  want  him  to  use 
the  letter,  though  I'm  inclined  to  think  your  motives 
were  rather  mixed ;  one  could  scarcely  expect  them  all 
to  be  purely  benevolent." 


BLAND  MAKES  A  SACRIFICE       205 

Sylvia  smiled.  He  was  keen-witted  and  she  found 
something  amusing  in  the  ironical  good-humor  which 
often  characterized  him. 

"  Anyhow,"  he  continued,  "  you're  a  staunch  and 
capable  ally,  and  as  that  gives  you  a  claim  on  me,  you 
won't  find  me  reluctant  to  do  my  part  whenever  the 
time  comes." 

Then  Mrs.  Lansing  came  in,  and  on  the  whole  Sylvia 
was  glad  of  the  interruption.  Herbert's  remarks  were 
now  and  then  unpleasantly  suggestive.  He  had  called 
her  his  ally,  but  she  felt  more  like  his  accomplice, 
which  was  much  less  flattering. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

AN   OPPOSITION    MOVE 

ft 

TT  was  a  wet  and  chilly  night,  and  Singleton  sat  in 
-*•  an  easy  chair  beside  the  hearth  in  his  city  quarters 
with  an  old  pipe  in  his  hand.  The  room  was  shabbily 
furnished,  the  hearthrug  had  a  hole  in  it,  the  carpet 
was  threadbare,  and  Singleton's  attire  harmonized 
with  his  surroundings,  though  the  box  of  cigars  and 
one  or  two  bottfes  and  siphons  on  the  table  suggested 
that  he  expected  visitors.  The  loose  Tuxedo  jacket 
he  had  bought  in  America  was  marked  by  discolored 
patches;  his  carpet  slippers  were  dilapidated.  His 
means,  though  long  restricted,  would  have  warranted 
better  accommodations;  but  his  clothes  were  comfort- 
able and  he  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to  put  on 
anything  smarter.  There  was  a  vein  of  rather  bitter 
pride  in  the  man,  and  he  would  not,  out  of  deference 
to  any  other  person's  views,  alter  conditions  that  suited 
him. 

A  notebook  lay  beside  him  and  several  bulky 
treatises  on  botany  were  scattered  about,  but  he  had 
ceased  work  and  was  thinking.  After  the  shadow  and 
silence  of  the  tropical  bush,  to  which  he  was  most  ac- 
customed, the  rattle  of  the  traffic  in  the  wet  street  be- 
low was  stimulating;  but  his  reflections  were  not  pleas- 
ant. He  had  waited  patiently  for  another  invitation 
to  Lansing's  house,  which  had  not  arrived,  and  a  day 

206 


AN  OPPOSITION  MOVE  207 

or  two  ago  he  had  met  Sylvia  Marston,  upon  whom 
his  mind  had  steadily  dwelt,  in  a  busy  street.  She  had 
bowed  to  him  courteously,  but  she  had  made  it  clear 
that  she  did  not  expect  him  to  stop  and  speak.  It  had 
been  a  bitter  moment  to  Singleton,  but  he  had  calmly 
faced  the  truth.  He  had  served  his  purpose,  and  he 
had  been  dropped.  Now,  however,  a  letter  from  one 
of  the  people  he  was  expecting  indicated  that  he  might 
again  be  drawn  into  the  rubber-exploiting  scheme. 

The  two  gentlemen  who  had  called  on  Herbert  were 
shown  in  presently. 

"  It  was  I  who  wrote  you,"  the  first  of  them  said; 
"  this  is  my  colleague,  Mr.  Nevis." 

Singleton  bowed. 

"Will  you  take  that  chair,  Mr.  Jackson?"  He 
turned  to  the  other  man.  "  I  think  you  had  better 
have  this  one;  it's  comparatively  sound." 

He  was  aware  that  they  were  looking  about  his 
apartment  curiously,  and  no  doubt  inferring  something 
from  its  condition;  but  this  was  of  no  consequence. 
He  had  learned  his  value  and  meant  to  insist  on  it, 
without  the  assistance  of  any  signs  of  prosperity. 

"  I  couldn't  get  up  to  town,  as  you  suggested,"  he 
resumed  when  they  were  seated.  "  I've  been  rather 
busy  of  late." 

"  That's  generally  the  case  with  us,"  Jackson  said 
pointedly. 

He  was  a  thin  man,  very  neatly  and  quietly  dressed, 
with  a  solemn  face  and  an  air  of  importance.  Nevis 
was  stouter  and  more  florid,  with  a  brisker  manner,  but 
the  stamp  of  the  city  was  plainly  set  on  both. 

"  Well,"  said  Singleton,  "  I'm  at  your  service,  now 
you're  here.  The  cigars  are  nearest  you,  Mr.  Nevis, 


208  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

and  I  can  recommend  the  contents  of  the  smaller  bottle. 
It's  a  Southern  speciality  and  rather  difficult  to  get  in 
England." 

Nevis  hesitated.  He  thought  it  better  that  the  inter- 
view should  be  conducted  on  strictly  business  lines, 
while  to  accept  the  proffered  hospitality  would  tend  to 
place  him  and  the  man  he  wished  to  deal  with  on  a 
footing  of  social  equality.  But  it  was  desirable  not  to 
offend  Singleton,  and  he  lighted  a  cigar. 

"  To  begin  with,  I  must  ask  if  you  are  still  in  any 
way  connected  with  Mr.  Lansing?  "  he  said. 

"  No,"  answered  Singleton  with  some  grimness. 
"  You  can  take  it  for  granted  that  he  has  done  with 
me." 

"  That  clears  the  ground.  We  have  been  consider- 
ing the  report  you  wrote  for  him.  In  our  opinion,  it 
was,  while  not  encouraging,  hardly  sufficient  to  war- 
rant his  abandoning  the  project,  in  which,  as  you  have 
been  told,  we  were  associated  with  him," 

"  He  may  have  had  other  motives,"  Singleton  sug- 
gested. 

Nevis  nodded  gravely,  as  if  in  appreciation  of  his 
keenness. 

"  That,"  he  said,  "  is  what  occurred  to  us.  But  what 
is  your  idea  of  the  scheme  ?  " 

"  It's  clearly  stated  in  the  report." 

Jackson  made  a  sign  of  impatience. 

'*  We'll  leave  the  report  out  and  come  to  the  point. 
Can  the  rubber,  which  you  say  is  really  to  be  found, 
be  collected  and  brought  down  to  the  coast  without  in- 
curring a  prohibitive  expense?  " 

'  Yes,"  said  Singleton.  "  But  you  must  understand 
me.  The  methods  generally  adopted  in  such  cases 


AN  OPPOSITION  MOVE  209 

would  be  bound  to  fail.  You  would  require  an  over- 
seer with  rather  exceptional  technical  knowledge,  who 
must,  besides  this,  be  quite  free  from  the  usual  preju- 
dices on  the  native  question.  They  would,  no  doubt, 
be  a  little  difficult  to  avoid,  since  at  first  he  would  have 
to  put  up  with  a  few  attempts  upon  his  life;  but,  if 
he  could  combine  resolution  and  strict  justice  with  a 
conciliatory  attitude,  the  attempt  would  cease,  and  I 
think  he  could  earn  you  a  fair  return  on  a  moderate 
outlay." 

Jackson  laughed. 

"  So  far  as  my  experience  goes,  such  men  are  scarce. 
But  I'd  better  say  that  we  had  you  in  mind  when  we 
made  this  visit.  Do  you  think  you  could  do  anything, 
if  we  sent  you  out?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Singleton  quietly:  "I  believe  I  could 
make  the  venture  pay.  Whether  I'd  think  it  worth 
while  is  another  matter." 

*'  Then,"  Nevis  interposed,  "  it's  simply  a  question 
of  terms?" 

"  Oh,  no.  You  may  be  surprised  to  hear  that  pay- 
ment is  not  the  first  consideration;  though  it's  true. 
I'm  interested  in  certain  investigations  which  can  be 
carried  out  only  in  the  tropics.  However,  you'd  better 
make  your  offer." 

Nevis  did  so,  and  Singleton  pondered  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. 

'  The  remuneration  might  suffice,  provided  that  I 
was  given  a  percentage  on  the  product  and  one  or  two 
special  allowances;  but  before  going  any  farther  I 
must  understand  your  intentions.  I'm  a  botanist,  and 
have  no  wish  to  be  made  use  of  merely  for  the  purpose 
of  furthering  some  stock-jobbing  scheme.  Do  you 


210  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

really  want  this  venture  put  upon  a  satisfactory  work- 
ing footing?  " 

"  I'll  explain,"  said  Nevis.  "  The  fact  is,  Lansing 
let  us  in  rather  badly.  We  spent  a  good  deal  of  money 
over  this  concession,  and  we're  anxious  to  get  it  back. 
Since  we  can't  float  the  thing  on  the  market  at  present, 
we  have  formed  a  small  private  syndicate  to  develop 
the  property,  though  we  may  sell  out  in  a  year  or  two 
if  you  can  make  the  undertaking  commercially  suc- 
cessful. I  think  you  could  count  on  the  purchasers' 
continuing  operations." 

"  Have  you  considered  what  Lansing's  attitude  may 
be?" 

"  It  won't  matter.  He  has  gone  out  of  the  busi- 
ness, convinced  that  the  thing's  no  good;  he  cleared 
off  most  of  his  rubber  shares,  for  a  similar  reason. 
This  raises  another  point  —  the  original  company's 
possessions  lie  in  the  same  region,  though  ruled  by  an- 
other state,  and  things  are  going  badly  there.  If  you 
could  get  across  and  see  what  could  be  done,  we  would 
pay  an  extra  fee." 

Singleton  lighted  a  cigar  and  leaned  back  in  his  chair 
with  a  thoughtful  expression,  and  for  a  minute  or 
two  they  left  him  alone.  They  were  keen  business 
men,  but  they  knew  that  their  usual  methods  would 
not  serve  them  with  this  shabbily-dressed,  self-pos- 
sessed botanist. 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  length,  "  your  suggestion  rather 
appeals  to  me,  but  there's  the  difficulty  that  another 
matter  claims  my  attention.  Though  it  isn't  strictly 
in  my  line,  I've  been  asked  to  go  out  to  Canada  and 
assist  in  the  production  of  a  variety  of  wheat  that  will 
ripen  quickly;  in  fact,  I  was  looking  up  some  informa- 


AN  OPPOSITION  MOVE  211 

tion  bearing  on  the  matter  when  you  came  in.  It's  a 
remarkably  interesting  subject." 

They  were  clever  enough  to  see  that  this  was  not  an 
attempt  to  enhance  the  value  of  his  services ;  the  man 
was  obviously  a  botanical  enthusiast,  and  Nevis  showed 
signs  of  attention.  He  had  once  or  twice  thought  that 
something  might  be  made  out  of  Canadian  land  com- 
panies. 

"  One  could  imagine  that,"  he  said.  "  I  understand 
that  it's  a  matter  of  high  importance." 

'  The  development  of  the  whole  northern  portion  of 
the  prairie  country  depends  on  the  success  of  the  ex- 
periments that  are  being  made,"  Singleton  went  on. 
"  Their  summers  are  hot  but  short;  if  they  can  get  a 
grain  that  ripens  early,  they  can  cultivate  vast  stretches 
of  land  that  are  now,  from  economic  reasons,  uninhab- 
itable, and  it  would  make  farming  a  more  prosperous 
business  in  other  tracts.  Crops  growing  in  the  favored 
parts  are  occasionally  frozen.  It's  a  coincidence  that 
a  day  or  two  ago  I  got  a  letter  inquiring  about  that 
kind  of  wheat  from  a  friend  in  Canada  who  is,  as  it 
happens,  farming  with  a  cousin  of  Lansing's."  Then 
he  laughed.  "  All  this,  however,  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  object  of  your  visit.  Give  me  a  few  more 
minutes  to  think  it  over." 

There  was  silence  except  for  the  rattle  of  wheels  out- 
side while  he  smoked  half  a  cigar;  then  he  turned  to 
his  companions. 

"  I'll  go  out  and  undertake  your  work.  I  believe 
you're  acting  wisely,  and  that  Lansing  will  be  sorry 
after  a  while  that  he  threw  away  his  interest  in  the 
scheme." 

They  discussed  the  details  of  the  project  and  then 


212  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

the  business  men  went  away,  satisfied.  Shortly  after- 
ward Singleton  took  a  letter  out  of  a  paper  rack,  and 
when  he  had  read  it  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  lost  in 
pleasant  recollections.  Some  years  earlier,  he  had  by 
chance  fallen  in  with  a  lad  named  West  when  fishing 
among  the  Scottish  hills.  The  young  man's  sister 
and  elder  brother  were  staying  with  him  at  the  re- 
mote hotel  in  which  Singleton  had  quarters,  and  some- 
what to  his  astonishment  they  soon  made  friends  with 
him. 

Poverty  had  made  him  reserved ;  he  knew  that  he 
was  a  little  awkward  and  unpolished,  but  the  Wests 
had  not  attempted  to  patronize  him.  Their  cordiality 
set  him  at  his  ease ;  he  liked  the  careless,  good-humored 
lad;  Ethel  West,  grave-eyed,  direct,  and  candid,  made 
a  strong  impression,  and  he  had  been  drawn  to  the 
quiet  lawyer  who  was  much  older  than  either.  They 
spent  delightful  days  together  on  the  lake  and  among 
the  hills;  Singleton  told  them  something  about  his 
studies  and  ambitions,  and  in  the  evenings  they  per- 
suaded him  to  sing.  Ethel  was  a  musician  and  Single- 
ton sang  well.  On  leaving  they  had  invited  him  to 
visit  them;  but,  partly  from  diffidence,  Singleton  had 
not  gone,  though  he  knew  these  were  not  the  people 
who  took  a  man  up  when  he  could  be  of  service  and 
afterward  dropped  him. 

Now  he  had  received  a  letter  from  Edgar  West,  say- 
ing that  he  was  farming  in  western  Canada  and  in- 
quiring if  Singleton  could  tell  him  anything  about  the 
drought-resisting  and  quick-ripening  properties  of  cer- 
tain varieties  of  wheat.  The  botanist  was  glad  to 
place  his  knowledge  at  his  friend's  disposal,  and,  tak- 


AN  OPPOSITION  MOVE  213 

ing  up  pen  and  paper,  he  spent  an  hour  on  a  treatise 
on  the  subject,  which  was  to  save  Lansing  expense  and 
trouble,  and  bring  Singleton  further  communications 
from  Edgar.  Then  he  smoked  another  pipe  and  went 
to  bed ;  and  a  fortnight  later  he  sailed  for  the  tropics. 

Shortly  after  he  had  gone,  Herbert  heard  of  his 
departure,  and  the  letter  containing  the  news  arrived 
on  a  cheerless  afternoon  during  which  his  doctor  had 
visited  him.  After  the  doctor  left,  Herbert  entered 
the  room  where  his  wife  and  Sylvia  were,  and  took  his 
place  in  an  easy  chair  by  a  window.  Outside,  the  lawn 
was  covered  with  half-melted  snow  and  the  trees  raised 
naked,  dripping  branches  above  the  drooping  shrubs. 
Farther  back  the  hedgerows  ran  somberly  across  the 
white  fields,  and  in  the  distance  the  hills  loomed,  deso- 
late and  gray,  against  a  leaden  sky. 

"  Ballin  says  I'd  better  take  it  easy  for  some  time 
yet,"  Herbert  informed  his  wife.  "  In  fact,  he  recom- 
mends a  trip  abroad;  Algiers  or  Egypt,  for  prefer- 
ence." He  indicated  the  dreary  prospect  outside  the 
window.  "  Though  he  didn't  actually  insist  on  my 
going,  the  idea's  attractive." 

"Could  you  leave  your  business?"  Mrs.  Lansing 
inquired. 

Herbert  smiled. 

'  Yes ;  I  think  so.  I  was  doing  pretty  well  when 
I  got  run  over,  and  things  have  since  slackened  down. 
My  manager  can  look  after  them  while  I  am  away." 

This  was  correct,  so  far  as  it  went ;  but  he  had  an- 
other reason  for  deciding  not  to  resume  operations 
for  a  while.  He  suspected  that  his  recent  conduct  had 
excited  distrust  and  indignation  in  certain  quarters,  but 


214  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

this  would,  no  doubt,  blow  over  before  his  return. 
People  forgot,  and  he  could  avoid  those  whose  confi- 
dence in  him  had  proved  expensive. 

"If  that's  the  case,  we  may  as  well  get  off  as  soon 
as  it  can  be  arranged,"  said  Mrs.  Lansing.  She  turned 
to  Sylvia.  "Of  course,  you  will  come  with  us." 

Sylvia  hesitated.  She  believed  her  influence  over 
Bland  would  not  weaken  much  in  her  absence;  but, 
after  all,  it  was  wiser  to  run  no  risk.  Moreover,  she 
would,  to  some  extent,  feel  her  separation  from  the 
man. 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  I  ought  to  do,"  she  an- 
swered. "  I  might  be  a  restraint  upon  you  —  you  can't 
want  me  always  at  hand ;  and  I  could  spend  a  month 
or  two  with  Dorothy.  She  has  several  times  told  me 
to  come." 

"  You  would  be  better  with  us/'  Mrs.  Lansing  re- 
joined with  firmness;  and  Sylvia  suspected  her  of  a 
wish  to  prevent  her  enjoying  Eland's  society. 

"  I'll  think  it  over,"  she  said. 

After  they  had  discussed  the  projected  journey,  Mrs. 
Lansing  withdrew  on  some  domestic  errand,  and  Her- 
bert turned  to  Sylvia. 

"  I  needn't  point  out  that  you'll  be  no  trouble  to  us, 
but  perhaps  I'd  better  mention  that  I  had  a  letter  from 
George  this  post.  As  there's  very  little  to  be  done  until 
the  spring,  he  thinks  of  coming  over.  I  don't  know 
how  far  that  may  affect  your  decision." 

Sylvia  was  a  little  startled,  but  she  reflected  rap- 
idly. The  house  of  the  relative  she  had  thought  of 
visiting  would  be  open  to  George,  as  would  be  one  or 
two  others  in  which  she  might  stay  a  while.  It  was 
most  undesirable  that  he  should  encounter  Bland, 


AN  OPPOSITION  MOVE  215 

which  would  be  likely  to  happen.  Then  it  struck  her 
that  Herbert  might  derive  as  little  satisfaction  from 
his  cousin's  visit  as  it  would  afford  her. 

"  Have  you  succeeded  in  selling  George's  shares 
yet  ?  "  she  asked,  and  though  this  was,  on  the  face  of 
it,  an  abrupt  change  of  subject,  she  thought  Herbert 
would  follow  the  sequence  of  ideas. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  with  a  smile  of  comprehension. 
"  It  was  too  late  when  I  was  able  to  attend  to  things ; 
they  have  dropped  to  such  a  price  that  I'll  have  to 
keep  them.  I'm  afraid  it  will  be  a  blow  to  George, 
and  he's  having  trouble  enough  already  with  your 
farm ;  but,  luckily,  some  other  shares  I  bought  on  his 
account  show  signs  of  a  marked  improvement  before 
long." 

Sylvia  inferred  from  this  that  he  had  not  informed 
his  cousin  of  the  state  of  his  affairs,  and  did  not  wish 
to  see  him  until  the  improvement  mentioned,  or  some 
other  favorable  development,  should  mitigate  the  shock 
of  discovering  what  use  Herbert  had  made  of  his 
powers.  It  was  clear  that  it  rested  with  her  to  decide 
whether  George  made  the  visit  or  not,  because  if  she 
went  to  Egypt  he  would  remain  in  Canada.  But  she 
was  not  quite  ready  to  give  her  companion  an  answer. 

"  Did  I  tell  you  that  I  met  Singleton  a  little  while 
ago  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  think  he  wished  to  speak,  but  I 
merely  bowed.  I  was  in  a  hurry,  for  one  thing." 

"  It's  the  first  I've  heard  of  it,  but  you  did  quite 
right.  Since  he  was  here,  one  or  two  of  the  other 
directors  who  tried  to  give  me  some  trouble  have  got 
hold  of  him.  They  have  sent  him  out  to  see  what  can 
be  done  with  the  rubber  property." 

"  Was  that  worth  while?  " 


216  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  shouldn't  think  so.  It  strikes  me  they're  wasting 
their  money." 

This  was  Herbert's  firm  belief,  but  his  judgment 
while  generally  accurate,  had,  in  this  instance,  proved 
defective.  He  had  failed  properly  to  estimate  Single- 
ton's capabilities.  It  was,  however,  obvious  to  Sylvia 
that  he  had  had  no  part  in  the  undertaking,  and  had 
abandoned  his  rubber  schemes,  which  implied  that 
George's  loss  would  be  serious.  There  was  no  doubt 
that  it  would  suit  both  Herbert  and  herself  better  if 
George  did  not  come  back  too  soon. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  that  is  not  a  matter  of  any  con- 
sequence to  me.  After  all,  I  think  I'll  go  south  with 
you  and  Muriel." 

Herbert  had  foreseen  this  decision. 

"  It's  the  most  suitable  arrangement,"  he  responded. 
"  When  I  write,  I'll  mention  it  to  George." 

Sylvia  went  out  a  little  later  with  a  sense  of  guilt; 
she  felt  that  in  removing  the  strongest  inducement  for 
George's  visit  she  had  betrayed  him.  She  was  sorry 
for  George,  but  she  could  not  allow  any  consideration 
for  him  to  interfere  with  her  ambitions.  Then  she 
resolutely  drove  these  thoughts  away.  The  matter 
could  be  looked  at  in  a  more  pleasant  light,  and  there 
were  several  good  reasons  for  the  course  she  had 
adopted. 

Entering  the  library,  she  carefully  wrote  a  little  note 
to  Captain  Bland,  and  then  went  in  search  of  Mrs. 
Lansing. 

"  I  think  I'll  go  over  to  Susan's  for  the  week-end," 
she  announced.  "  I  promised  her  another  visit,  and 
now  I  can  explain  that  I'm  going  away  with  you." 

Mrs.  Lansing  made  no  objection,  and  three  or  four 


AN  OPPOSITION  MOVE  217 

days  afterward  Sylvia  met  Bland  at  Mrs.  Kettering's. 
house.  He  arrived  after  her,  and  as  there  were  other 
guests,  she  had  to  wait  a  little  while  before  she  could 
get  a  word  with  him  alone.  She  was  standing  in  the 
big  hall,  which  was  unoccupied,  rather  late  in  the  eve- 
ning, when  he  came  toward  her. 

"  I  thought  I  should  never  escape  from  Kettering ; 
but  he's  safe  for  a  while,  talking  guns  in  the  smoking- 
room,"  he  said. 

Sylvia  thought  that  they  would  be  safe  from  inter- 
ruption for  a  few  minutes,  which  would  serve  her  pur- 
pose. 

"  So  you  have  managed  to  get  here,"  she  said. 

"Had  you  any  doubt  of  my  succeeding?"  Bland 
asked  reproachfully.  "  Kettering  once  gave  me  a 
standing  invitation,  and,  as  it  happens,  there's  a  famous 
horse  dealer  in  this  neighborhood  with  whom  I've  had 
some  business.  That  and  the  few  Sunday  trains 
formed  a  good  excuse.  I,  however,  don't  mind  in  the 
least  if  Mrs.  Kettering  attaches  any  significance  to  the 
visit." 

Sylvia  did  not  wish  to  arouse  the  suspicions  of  her 
hostess,  but  she  smiled. 

"  I  expected  you,  and  I'm  glad  you  came,"  she  said. 

"  That's  very  nice  to  hear." 

"  Don't  take  too  much  for  granted.  Still,  I  thought 
I'd  like  to  see  you,  because  I'm  going  to  Egypt  with 
Muriel  for  some  time.  Indeed,  I  shall  not  be  back 
until  the  spring." 

The  man  displayed  dismayed  surprise,  and  Sylvia 
waited  for  his  answer  with  some  eagerness.  She  did 
not  wish  to  enter  into  a  formal  engagement  —  it  was  a 
little  too  early  to  make  an  announcement  yet  —  but  she 


218  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

thought  it  wise  to  bind  him  in  some  degree  before  she 
left. 

"  Until  the  spring?"  he  broke  out.  "You  expect 
me  to  let  you  go  ?  " 

"  You  must,"  said  Sylvia  firmly,  and  added  in  a 
softer  voice,  "  I'm  rather  sorry." 

He  saw  that  he  could  not  shake  her  decison. 

"  Then  we  must  have  a  clear  understanding,"  he  re- 
joined hotly.  "  You  know  I  want  you  —  when  is  this 
waiting  to  end  ?  Tell  me  now,  and  let  me  tell  all  who 
care  to  hear,  that  you  belong  to  me." 

Sylvia  made  a  gesture  of  protest  and  coquettishly 
looked  down. 

"  You  must  still  have  patience,"  she  murmured ; 
"  the  time  will  soon  pass." 

"  And  then?  "  he  asked  with  eagerness. 

She  glanced  up  at  him  shyly. 

"If  you  will  ask  me  again  when  I  come  back,  I  will 
give  you  your  answer." 

She  left  him  no  reason  for  doubting  what  that  an- 
swer would  be ;  and,  stretching  out  his  arms,  he  drew 
her  strongly  to  him.  In  a  minute  or  two,  however, 
Sylvia  insisted  on  his  returning  to  his  host,  and  soon 
afterward  Mrs.  Kettering  came  in  to  look  for  her. 


CHAPTER  XX 

A    BLIZZARD 

A  BITTER  wind  searched  the  poplar  bluff  where 
•*  ^  George  and  his  hired  man,  Grierson,  were  cut- 
ting fuel.  Except  in  the  river  valleys,  trees  of  any  size 
are  scarce  on  the  prairie,  but  the  slender  trunks  and 
leafless  branches  were  closely  massed  and  afforded  a 
little  shelter.  Outside  on  the  open  waste,  the  cold  was 
almost  too  severe  to  face,  and  George  once  or  twice 
glanced  anxiously  across  the  snowy  levels,  looking  for 
some  sign  of  Edgar,  who  should  have  joined  them 
with  the  team  and  sledge.  It  was,  however,  difficult 
to  see  far,  because  a  gray  dimness  narrowed  in  the 
horizon.  George  stood,  dressed  in  snow-flecked  furs, 
in  the  center  of  a  little  clearing  strewn  with  rows  of 
fallen  trunks  from  which  he  was  hewing  off  the 
branches.  The  work  was  hard;  his  whole  body 
strained  with  each  stroke  of  the  heavy  ax,  but  it  failed 
to  keep  him  warm,  and  the  wind  was  growing  more 
bitter  with  the  approach  of  night. 

"  I  don't  know  what  can  be  keeping  West,"  he  said 
after  a  while.  "  We  haven't  seen  the  mail-carrier 
either,  and  he's  two  hours  late ;  but  he  must  have  had 
a  heavy  trail  all  the  way  from  the  settlement.  I  ex- 
pect he'll  cut  out  our  place  and  make  straight  for 
Grant's.  We'll  have  snow  before  long." 

There  was  an  empty  shack  not  far  away  where,  by 
219 


220  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

George's  consent,  the  mail-carrier  left  letters  when 
bad  weather  made  it  desirable  to  shorten  his  round. 

Grierson  nodded  as  he  glanced  about.  The  stretch 
of  desolate  white  prairie  had  contracted  since  he  had 
last  noticed  it,  the  surrounding  dimness  was  creeping 
nearer  in,  and  the  ranks  of  poplar  trunks  were  losing 
their  sharpness  of  form.  Now  that  the  men  had  ceased 
chopping,  they  could  hear  the  eerie  moaning  of  the 
wind  and  the  sharp  patter  of  icy  snow-dust  among  the 
withered  brush. 

"  It  will  take  him  all  his  time  to  fetch  Grant's ;  I  wish 
Mr.  West  would  come  before  it  gets  dark,"  Grierson 
said  with  a  shiver,  and  fell  to  work  again. 

Several  minutes  passed.  George  was  thinking  more 
about  the  mail-carrier's  movements  than  about  Ed- 
gar's. The  English  letters  should  have  arrived,  and 
he  was  anxiously  wondering  if  there  were  any  for 
him.  Then,  as  he  stopped  for  breath,  a  dim  moving 
blur  grew  out  of  the  prairie,  and  he  flung  down  his 
ax. 

"  Here's  West ;  we'll  have  light  enough  to  put  up  the 
load,"  he  said. 

A  little  later  Edgar  led  two  powerful  horses  up  the 
narrow  trail,  and  for  a  while  the  men  worked  hard, 
stacking  the  logs  upon  the  sledge.  Then  they  set  off 
at  the  best  pace  the  team  could  make,  and  the  cold 
struck  through  them  when  they  left  the  bluff. 

"  Stinging,  isn't  it  ?  "  Edgar  remarked.  "  I  couldn't 
get  over  earlier;  Flett  turned  up,  half  frozen,  and  he 
kept  me.  Seems  to  have  some  business  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, though  he  didn't  say  what  it  is." 

George,  walking  through  the  snow  to  leeward  of 
the  loaded  sledge,  where  it  was  a  little  wanner,  be- 


A  BLIZZARD  221 

trayed  no  interest  in  the  news.  Temperance  reform 
was  languishing  at  Sage  Butte  and  its  leaders  had  re- 
ceived a  severe  rebuff  from  the  authorities.  The 
police,  who  had  arrested  an  Indian  suspected  of  con- 
veying liquor  to  the  reservation,  had  been  no  more 
successful,  for  the  man  had  been  promptly  acquitted. 
They  had  afterward  been  kept  busy  investigating  the 
matter  of  the  shooting  of  George's  bull,  which  had  re- 
covered; but  they  had  found  no  clue  to  the  offender, 
and  nothing  of  importance  had  happened  for  some 
time. 

It  had  grown  dark  and  the  wind  was  rapidly  increas- 
ing. Powdery  snow  drove  along  before  it,  obscuring 
the  men's  sight  and  lashing  their  tingling  faces.  At 
times  the  icy  white  haze  whirled  about  them  so  thick 
that  they  could  scarcely  see  the  blurred  dark  shape  of 
the  sledge,  but  as  they  had  hauled  a  good  many  loads  of 
stovewood  home,  the  trail  was  plainly  marked.  It 
would  be  difficult  to  lose  it  unless  deep  snow  fell.  With 
lowered  heads  and  fur  caps  pulled  well  down,  they 
plodded  on,  until  at  length  George  stopped  where  the 
shadowy  mass  of  a  bluff  loomed  up  close  in  front  of 
them. 

"  I'll  leave  you  here  and  make  for  the  shack,"  he 
said.  "  I  want  to  see  if  there  are  any  letters." 

"  It's  far  too  risky,"  Edgar  pointed  out  "  You'll 
get  lost  as  soon  as  you  leave  the  beaten  trail." 

"  I'll  have  the  bluff  for  a  guide,  and  it  isn't  far  from 
the  end  of  it  to  the  small  ravine.  After  that  I 
shouldn't  have  much  trouble  in  striking  the  fallow." 

"  It's  doubtful,"  Edgar  persisted.  "  Let  the  letters 
wait  until  to-morrow." 

"  No,"   said   George,   resolutely.     "  I've   waited   a 


222  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

week  already;  the  mail  is  late.     Besides,  we'll  have 
worse  snow  before  morning." 

Seeing  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind,  Edgar  raised 
no  more  objections,  and  in  another  few  moments 
George  disappeared  into  a  haze  of  driving  snow.  When 
he  left  the  trail  he  found  walking  more  difficult  than  he 
had  expected,  but  though  it  was  hard  to  see  beyond  a 
few  yards,  he  had  the  bluff  to  guide  him  and  he  kept 
along  the  edge  of  it  until  the  trees  vanished  suddenly. 
Then  he  stopped,  buffeted  by  the  wind,  to  gather  breath 
and  fix  clearly  in  his  mind  the  salient  features  of  the 
open  space  that  he  must  cross. 

If  he  could  walk  straight  for  half  a  mile,  he  would 
strike  a  small  hollow  and  by  following  it  he  would 
reach  a  tract  of  cultivated  ground.  This,  he  thought, 
should  be  marked  by  the  absence  of  the  taller  clumps 
of  grass  and  the  short  willow  scrub  which  here  and 
there  broke  through  the  snow.  There  would  then  be 
a  stretch  of  about  two  hundred  acres  to  cross  before 
he  found  the  little  shack,  whose  owner  had  gone  away 
to  work  on  the  railroad  during  the  winter.  He  ex- 
pected to  have  some  trouble  in  reaching  it,  but  he  must 
get  the  letters,  and  he  set  off  again,  breaking  through 
the  snow-crust  in  places,  and  trying  to  estimate  the  time 
he  took. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  and,  as  there  was  no 
sign  of  the  ravine,  he  began  to  wonder  whether  he  had 
deviated  much  from  his  chosen  line.  In  another  few 
minutes  he  was  getting  anxious ;  and  then  suddenly  he 
plunged  knee-deep  into  yielding  snow.  It  got  deeper 
at  the  next  step  and  he  knew  that  he  had  reached  the 
shallow  depression,  which  had  been  almost  filled  up 
by  the  drifts.  He  must  cross  it,  and  the  effort  this 


A  BLIZZARD  223 

entailed  left  him  gasping  when  he  stopped  again  on  the 
farther  side. 

It  was  still  possible  to  retrace  his  steps,  because  he 
could  hardly  fail  to  strike  the  bluff  he  had  left,  but 
there  was  no  doubt  that  to  go  on  would  be  perilous. 
If  he  missed  the  shack,  he  might  wander  about  the 
prairie  until  he  sank  down,  exhausted;  and  after  a  day 
of  fatiguing  labor  he  knew  that  he  could  not  long  face 
the  wind  and  frost.  There  was,  however,  every  sign 
of  a  wild  storm  brewing;  it  might  be  several  days  be- 
fore he  could  secure  the  letters  if  he  turned  back,  and 
such  a  delay  was  not  to  be  thought  of. 

He  went  on,  following  the  ravine  where  he  could 
trace  its  course,  which  was  not  always  possible,  until 
he  decided  that  he  must  have  reached  the  neighborhood 
of  the  farm.  There  was,  however,  nothing  to  indicate 
that  he  had  done  so.  He  could  see  only  a  few  yards ; 
the  snow  had  all  been  smooth  and  unbroken  near  the 
hollow,  he  could  distinguish  no  difference  between  any 
one  part  of  it  and  the  rest ;  and  he  recognized  the  risk 
he  took  when  he  turned  his  back  on  his  last  guide  and 
struggled  forward  into  the  waste. 

Walking  became  more  difficult,  the  wind  was  getting 
stronger,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  the  shack.  Per- 
haps he  had  gone  too  far  to  the  south.  He  inclined  to 
the  right,  but  that  brought  him  to  nothing  that  might 
serve  as  a  guide ;  there  was  only  smooth  snow  and  the 
white  haze  whirling  round  him.  He  turned  more  to 
the  right,  growing  desperately  afraid,  stopped  once  or 
twice  to  ascertain  by  the  way  the  snow  drove  past 
whether  he  was  wandering  from  his  course,  and 
plodded  on  again  savagely.  At  last  something  began 
to  crackle  beneath  his  feet.  Stooping  down,  he  saw 


224  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

that  it  was  stubble,  and  he  became  sensible  of  a  vast 
relief.  He  could  not  be  more  than  a  few  minutes' 
walk  from  the  shack. 

It  was  only  three  or  four  yards  off  when  he  saw  it, 
and  on  entering  he  had  difficulty  in  closing  the  rickety 
door.  Then,  when  he  had  taken  off  his  heavy  mittens, 
it  cost  him  some  trouble  to  find  and  strike  a  match 
with  his  half- frozen  hands.  Holding  up  the  light,  he 
glanced  eagerly  at  a  shelf  and  saw  the  two  letters  he 
had  expected ;  there  was  no  mistaking  the  writing  and 
the  English  stamps.  He  thrust  them  safely  into  a 
pocket  beneath  his  furs  when  the  match  went  out  and 
struck  another,  for  his  next  step  required  considera- 
tion. 

The  feeble  radiance  traveled  round  the  little  room, 
showing  the  rent,  board  walls  and  the  beams  rough 
from  the  saw  that  supported  the  cedar  roofing  shingles. 
A  little  snow  had  sifted  in  and  lay  on  the  floor;  there 
was  a  rusty  stove  at  one  end,  but  no  lamp  or  fuel,  and 
the  hay  and  blankets  had  been  removed  from  the 
wooden  bunk.  Still,  as  George  was  warmly  clad  and 
had  space  to  move  about,  he  could  pass  the  night  there. 
^The  roar  of  the  wind  about  the  frail  building  rendered 
the  prospects  of  the  return  journey  strongly  discour- 
aging. He  might,  however,  be  detained  all  the  next 
day  by  the  snow;  but  what  chiefly  urged  him  to  face 
the  risk  of  starting  for  the  homestead  was  his  inability 
to  read  his  letters.  The  sight  of  them  had  sent  a  thrill 
through  him,  which  had  banished  all  sense  of  the  sting- 
ing cold.  He  had  eagerly  looked  forward  to  a  brief 
visit  to  the  old  country,  and  Sylvia  had,  no  doubt, 
bidden  him  come.  It  was  delightful  to  picture  her 
welcome,  and  the  evenings  they  would  spend  in 


A  BLIZZARD  225 

Muriel  Lansing's  pretty  drawing-room  while  he  told 
her  what  he  had  done  and  unfolded  his  plans  for  the 
future.  He  could  brook  no  avoidable  delay  in  reading 
her  message,  and,  nerving  himself  for  a  struggle,  he 
set  out  again. 

The  shack  vanished  the  moment  he  left  it.  The 
snow  was  thicker;  and,  floundering  heavily  through 
the  storm,  George  had  almost  given  up  the  attempt  to 
find  the  ravine,  when  he  fell  violently  into  a  clearer 
part  of  it.  Then  he  gathered  courage,  for  the  bluff 
was  large  and  would  be  difficult  to  miss;  but  it  did 
not  appear  when  he  expected  it.  He  was  breathless, 
nearly  blinded,  and  on  the  verge  of  exhaustion,  when 
he  crashed  into  a  dwarf  birch  and,  looking  up  half 
dazed,  saw  an  indistinct  mass  of  larger  trees.  He  had 
now  a  guide,  but  it  was  hard  to  follow,  with  his 
strength  fast  falling  and  the  savage  wind  buffeting 
him.  He  had  stopped  a  moment,  gasping,  when 
something  emerged  from  the  driving  snow.  It  was 
moving ;  it  looked  like  a  team  with  a  sledge  or  wagon, 
and  he  thought  that  his  companions  had  come  in  search 
of  him.  He  cried  out,  but  there  was  no  answer,  and 
though  he  tried  to  run,  the  beasts  vanished  as  strangely 
as  they  had  appeared. 

They  had,  however,  left  their  tracks,  coming  up  from 
the  south,  where  the  settlement  lay,  and  this  convinced 
him  that  they  had  not  been  driven  by  Edgar  or  Grier- 
son.  He  made  an  attempt  to  overtake  them  and,  fall- 
ing, went  on  again,  wondering  a  little  who  the  stran- 
gers could  be ;  though  this  was  not  a  matter  of  much 
consequence.  If  they  had  blankets  or  driving-robes, 
they  might  pass  the  night  without  freezing  in  the  bluff, 
where  there  was  fuel;  but  George  was  most  clearly 


226  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

conscious  of  the  urgent  need  for  his  reaching  the  home- 
stead before  his  strength  gave  out. 

At  last  he  struck  the  beaten  trail  which  had  fortu- 
nately not  yet  been  drifted  up,  and  after  keeping  to  it 
for  a  while  he  saw  a  faint  twinkle  of  light  in  front 
of  him.  A  voice  answered  his  shout  and  when  he 
stopped,  keeping  on  his  feet  with  difficulty  and  utterly 
worn  out,  a  team  came  up,  blurred  and  indistinct,  out 
of  the  driving  snow.  After  that  somebody  seized  him 
and  pushed  him  toward  an  empty  sledge. 

"  Get  down  out  of  the  wind ;  here's  the  fur  robe !  " 
cried  a  voice  he  recognized.  "  We  came  back  as  soon 
as  we  had  thrown  off  the  load." 

George  remembered  very  little  about  the  remainder 
of  the  journey,  but  at  last  the  sledge  stopped  where 
a  warm  glow  of  light  shone  out  into  the  snow.  Get- 
ting up  with  some  trouble  he  reached  the  homestead 
door  and  walked  heavily  into  the  room  where  he  sank, 
gasping,  into  a  chair.  He  felt  faint  and  dizzy,  he 
could  scarcely  breathe;  but  those  sensations  grew  less 
troublesome  as  he  recovered  from  the  violent  change 
of  temperature.  Throwing  off  his  furs,  he  noticed 
that  Flett  sat  smoking  near  the  stove. 

"  Here's  some  coffee,"  said  the  constable.  "  It's 
pretty  lucky  Grierson  found  you.  I  can't  remember  a 
worse  night." 

George  drank  the  coffee.  He  still  felt  heavy  and 
partly  dazed ;  his  mind  was  lethargic,  and  his  hands  and 
feet  tingled  painfully  with  the  returning  warmth.  He 
knew  that  there  was  something  he  ought  to  tell  Flett, 
but  it  was  a  few  minutes  before  he  could  think  clearly. 

"  I  met  a  team  near  the  bluff  and  lost  it  again  almost 
immediately,"  he  mumbled  finally. 


A  BLIZZARD  227 

Flett's  face  became  intent. 

"  Did  the  men  who  were  with  it  see  you  ?  Which 
way  were  they  going  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  George  sleepily.  "  Anyway,  though  I 
called  I  didn't  get  an  answer.  I  think  they  were  going 
west." 

"  And  there's  no  homestead  for  several  leagues,  ex- 
cept Langside's  shack.  They'll  camp  there  sure." 

"  I  don't  see  why  they  shouldn't,"  George  remarked 
with  languid  indifference. 

"  Hasn't  it  struck  you  why  those  fellows  should  be 
heading  into  waste  prairie  on  a  night  like  this  ?  Guess 
what  they've  got  in  the  wagon's  a  good  enough  reason. 
If  the  snow's  not  too  bad,  they'll  pull  out  for  the  Indian 
reservation  soon  as  it's  light  to-morrow." 

"  You  think  they  have  liquor  with  them  ?  "  asked 
George. 

Flett  nodded  and  walked  toward  the  door,  and 
George  felt  the  sudden  fall  of  temperature  and  heard 
the  scream  of  the  wind.  In  a  minute  or  two,  however, 
the  constable  reappeared  with  Edgar. 

"  I'd  get  them  sure ;  they're  in  the  shack  right  now," 
Flett  declared. 

"  You  would  never  find  it,"  Edgar  remonstrated. 
"  We  had  hard  enough  work  to  strike  the  homestead, 
and  we  were  on  a  beaten  trail,  which  will  have  drifted 
up  since  then.  You'll  have  to  drop  the  idea  —  it's 
quite  impossible." 

"  It's  blamed  hard  luck,"  grumbled  Flett.  "  I  may 
trail  the  fellows,  but  I  certainly  won't  get  them  with 
the  liquor  right  in  the  wagon,  as  it  will  be  now,  and 
without  something  of  that  kind  it's  mighty  hard  to 
secure  a  conviction.  I've  no  use  for  the  average  jury ; 


228  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

what  we  want  is  power  to  drop  on  to  a  man  without 
any  fuss  or  fooling  and  fix  him  so  he  won't  make  more 
trouble." 

"  It's  fortunate  you'll  never  get  it,"  Edgar  re- 
marked. "  I've  a  notion  it  would  be  a  dangerous  thing 
to  trust  even  a  Northwest  policeman  with.  You're  not 
all  quite  perfect  yet." 

Then  George,  recovering  from  his  lethargy,  remem- 
bered the  letters  and  eagerly  opened  the  one  from 
Sylvia.  It  consisted  of  a  few  sentences  in  which  she 
carelessly  told  him  that  if  he  came  over  he  would  not 
see  her,  as  she  was  going  to  Egypt  with  Herbert  and 
Muriel.  The  hint  of  regret  that  her  journey  could 
not  be  put  off  looked  merely  conventional,  but  she  said 
he  might  make  his  visit  in  the  early  summer,  as  she 
would  have  returned  by  then. 

George's  face  hardened  as  he  read  it,  for  the  disap- 
pointment was  severe.  He  thought  that  Sylvia  might 
have  remembered  that  he  could  not  leave  the  farm  after 
spring  had  begun.  The  man  felt  wounded  and,  for 
once,  inclined  to  bitterness.  His  optimistic  faith, 
which  idealized  its  object,  was  bound  to  bring  him 
suffering  when  dispelled  by  disillusion;  offering  sin- 
cere homage  to  all  that  seemed  most  worthy,  he  had 
not  learned  tolerance.  Though  his  appreciation  was 
quick  and  generous,  he  must  believe  in  what  he  ad- 
mired, and  it  was,  perhaps,  a  misfortune  that  he  was 
unable  to  recognize  shortcomings  with  cynical  good- 
humor.  He  could  distinguish  white  from  black  —  the 
one  stood  for  spotless  purity,  the  other  was  very  dark 
indeed  —  but  his  somewhat  restricted  vision  took  no 
account  of  the  more  common  intermediate  shades. 

For  all  that,  he  was  incapable  of  seriously  blaming 


A  BLIZZARD  229 

Sylvia.  Her  letter  had  hurt  him,  but  he  began  to 
make  excuses  for  her,  and  several  that  seemed  satis- 
factory presented  themselves ;  then,  feeling  a  little  com- 
forted, he  opened  the  letter  from  Herbert  with  some 
anxiety.  When  he  read  it,  he  let  it  drop  upon  the 
table  and  set  his  lips  tight.  His  cousin  informed  him 
that  it  would  be  most  injudicious  to  raise  any  money 
just  then  by  selling  shares,  as  he  had  been  requested 
to  do.  Those  he  had  bought  on  George's  account  had 
depreciated  in  an  unexpected  manner  and  the  markets 
were  stagnant  George,  he  said,  must  carry  on  his 
farming  operations  las  economically  as  possible,  until 
the  turn  came. 

"  Bad  news?  "  said  Edgar  sympathetically. 

'  Yes.  I'll  have  to  cut  out  several  plans  I'd  made 
for  spring;  in  fact,  I  don't  quite  see  how  I'm  to  go  on 
working  on  a  profitable  scale.  We'll  have  to  do  with- 
out the  extra  bunch  of  stock  I  was  calculating  on;  and 
I'm  not  sure  I  can  experiment  with  that  quick-ripening 
wheat.  There  are  a  number  of  other  things  we'll  have 
to  dispense  with." 

"  We'll  pull  through  by  some  means,"  Edgar  re- 
joined encouragingly,  and  George  got  up. 

"  I  feel  rather  worn  out,"  he  said.  "  I  think  I'll  go 
to  sleep." 

He  walked  wearily  from  the  room,  crumpling  up  the 
letters  he  had  risked  his  life  to  secure. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

GRANT    COMES   TO    THE   RESCUE 

THE  storm  had  raged  for  twenty-four  hours,  but 
it  had  now  passed,  and  it  was  a  calm  night  when 
a  little  party  sat  in  George's  living-room.  Outside,  the 
white  prairie  lay  still  and  silent  under  the  Arctic  frost, 
but  there  was  no  breath  of  wind  stirring  and  the 
room  was  comfortably  warm.  A  big  stove  glowed 
in  the  middle  of  it,  and  the  atmosphere  was  permeated 
with  the  smell  of  hot  iron,  stale  tobacco,  and  the  ex- 
udations from  resinous  boards. 

Grant  and  his  daughter  had  called  when  driving 
back  from  a  distant  farm,  and  Trooper  Flett  had  re- 
turned to  the  homestead  after  a  futile  search  for  the 
liquor  smugglers.  He  was  not  characterized  by  men- 
tal brilliancy,  but  his  persevering  patience  atoned  for 
that,  and  his  superior  officers  considered  him  a  sound 
and  useful  man.  Sitting  lazily  in  an  easy  chair  after 
a  long  day's  ride  in  the  nipping  frost,  he  discoursed 
upon  the  situation. 

"  Things  aren't  looking  good,"  he  said.  "  We've 
had  two  cases  of  cattle-killing  in  the  last  month,  be- 
sides some  horses  missing,  and  a  railroad  contractor 
knocked  senseless  with  an  empty  bottle ;  and  nobody's 
locked  up  yet." 

"  I  don't  think  you  have  any  reason  to  be  proud  of 
it,"  Edgar  broke  in. 

230 


GRANT  COMES  TO  THE  RESCUE     231 

Flett  spread  out  his  hands  in  expostulation. 

"  It's  not  our  fault.  I  could  put  my  hands  on  half 
a  dozen  men  who're  at  the  bottom  of  the  trouble ;  but 
what  would  be  the  use  of  that,  when  the  blamed  jury 
would  certainly  let  them  off?  In  a  case  of  this  kind, 
our  system  of  justice  is  mighty  apt  to  break  down. 
It's  a  pet  idea  of  mine." 

"  How  would  you  propose  to  alter  it?  "  Edgar  asked, 
to  lead  him  on. 

"If  we  must  have  a  jury,  I'd  like  to  pick  them,  and 
they'd  be  men  who'd  lost  some  stock.  You  could  de- 
pend on  them." 

"  There's  something  to  be  said  for  that,"  Grant  ad- 
mitted with  a  dry  smile. 

"  This  is  how  we're  fixed,"  Flett  went  on.  "  We're 
up  against  a  small,  but  mighty  smart,  hard  crowd;  we 
know  them  all  right,  but  we  can't  get  after  them.  You 
must  make  good  all  you  say  in  court,  and  we  can't  get 
folks  to  help  us.  They'd  rather  mind  the  store,  have 
a  game  of  pool,  or  chop  their  cordwood." 

"  I  can  think  of  a  few  exceptions,"  Edgar  said. 
"  Mrs.  Nelson,  for  example.  One  could  hardly  con- 
sider her  apathetic." 

'  That  woman's  dangerous !  When  we  were  work- 
ing up  things  against  Beamish,  she  must  make  him 
look  like  a  persecuted  victim.  She  goes  too  far;  the 
others  won't  go  far  enough.  Guess  they're  afraid  of 
getting  hurt." 

"  You  couldn't  say  that  of  Mr.  Hardie,"  Flora  ob- 
jected. 

"  No.  But  some  of  his  people  would  like  to  fire  him, 
and  he's  going  to  have  trouble  about  his  pay.  Any- 
how, this  state  of  things  is  pretty  hard  on  us.  There's 


232  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

no  use  in  bringing  a  man  up  when  you've  only  got  un- 
willing witnesses." 

"  What  you  want  is  a  dramatic  conviction,"  said 
Edgar  sympathetically. 

"  Sure.  It's  what  we're  working  for,  and  we'd  get 
it  if  everybody  backed  us  up  as  your  partner  and  Mr. 
Grant  are  doing."  He  turned  to  George.  "  My  com- 
ing back  here  is  a  little  rough  on  you." 

George  smiled. 

"  I  dare  say  it  will  be  understood  by  the  opposition, 
but  I  don't  mind.  It  looks  as  if  I  were  a  marked  man 
already." 

A  few  minutes  later  Flett  went  out  to  attend  to  his 
horse;  George  took  Grant  into  a  smaller  room  which 
he  used  for  an  office;  and  Edgar  and  Flora  were  left 
alone.  The  girl  sat  beside  the  stove,  with  a  thought- 
ful air,  and  Edgar  waited  for  her  to  speak.  Flora  in- 
spired him  with  an  admiration  which  was  largely 
tinged  with  respect,  though,  being  critical,  he  some- 
times speculated  about  the  cause  for  this.  She  was 
pretty,  but  her  style  of  beauty  was  rather  severe.  She 
had  fine  eyes  and  clearly-cut  features,  but  her  face  was 
a  little  too  reposeful  and  her  expression  usually  some- 
what grave;  he  preferred  animation  and  a  dash  of  co- 
quetry. Her  conversation  was  to  the  point  —  she  had 
a  way  of  getting  at  the  truth  of  a  matter  —  but  there 
was  nevertheless  a  certain  reserve  in  it  and  he  thought 
it  might  have  been  more  sparkling.  He  had  discov- 
ered some  time  ago  that  adroit  flattery  and  hints  that 
his  devotion  was  hers  to  command  only  afforded  her 
calm  amusement. 

"  Mr.  Lansing  looks  a  little  worried,"  she  said  at 
length. 


GRANT  COMES  TO  THE  RESCUE     233 

"  It  strikes  me  as  only  natural,"  Edgar  replied. 
"  He  has  had  a  steer  killed  since  the  rustlers  shot  the 
bull :  we  have  foiled  one  or  two  more  attempts  only  by 
keeping  a  good  lookout,  and  he  knows  that  he  lies  open 
to  any  new  attack  that  may  be  made  on  him.  His  po- 
sition isn't  what  you  could  call  comfortable.'' 

"  I  hardly  think  that  would  disturb  your  comrade 
very  much." 

Edgar  saw  that  she  would  not  be  put  off  with  an 
inadequate  explanation,  and  he  was  a  little  surprised 
that  she  did  not  seem  to  mind  displaying  her  interest 
in  George. 

"  Then."  he  said,  "  for  another  thing,  he's  disap- 
pointed about  having  to  give  up  an  English  visit  he 
had  looked  forward  to." 

He  saw  a  gleam  that  suggested  comprehension  in 
her  eyes. 

"  You  mean  that  he  is  badly  disappointed  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Edgar;  "  I  really  think  he  is." 

He  left  her  to  make  what  she  liked  of  this,  and  he 
imagined  that  there  was  something  to  be  inferred  from 
it.  He  thought  it  might  be  wise  to  give  her  a  hint  that 
George's  affections  were  already  engaged. 

"  Besides,"  he  resumed,  "  it's  no  secret  that  the  loss 
of  his  harvest  hit  him  pretty  hard.  We'll  have  to  cur- 
tail our  spring  operation  in  several  ways  and  study 
economy." 

Flora  glanced  toward  the  door  of  the  room  her 
father  had  entered  with  George.  Edgar  thought  she 
had  done  so  unconsciously;  but  it  was  somewhat  sug- 
gestive, though  he  could  not  see  what  it  implied. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I'm  inclined  to  believe  that  he'll 
get  over  his  difficulties." 


234  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  So  am  I,"  Edgar  agreed.  "  George  isn't  easy  to 
defeat" 

In  the  meanwhile  Grant  sat  in  the  next  room,  smok- 
ing thoughtfully  and  asking  George  rather  direct  ques- 
tions about  his  farming. 

"  I've  made  some  inquiries  about  that  new  wheat 
your  English  botanist  friend  reported  on,"  he  said  at 
length.  "  Our  experimental  farm  people  strongly  rec- 
ommend it,  and  there's  a  man  I  wrote  to  who  can't  say 
enough  in  its  favor.  You'll  sow  it  this  spring?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  I'll  have  to  stick  to  the  common  kinds," 
George  said  gloomily.  "  I've  a  pretty  big  acreage  to 
crop  and  that  special  seed  is  remarkably  dear." 

"  That's  so,"  Grant  agreed.  "  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
they  haven't  quite  made  their  arrangements  for  put- 
ting it  on  the  market  yet,  and  the  surest  way  to  get 
some  is  to  bid  for  a  round  lot.  After  what  I'd  heard, 
I  wired  a  Winnipeg  agent  and  he  has  promised  to  send 
me  on  what  looks  like  more  than  I  can  use.  Now  I'll 
be  glad  to  let  you  have  as  much  as  you  want  for  your 
lightest  land." 

George  felt  grateful.  He  did  not  think  that  this 
methodical  man  had  made  any  careless  mistake  over 
his  order ;  but  he  hesitated. 

"  Thanks,"  he  said.  "  Still,  it  doesn't  get  over  the 
main  difficulty." 

"  I  guess  it  does.  You  would  have  had  to  pay 
money  down  for  the  seed,  and  I'll  be  glad  to  let  the 
thing  stand  over  until  you  have  thrashed  out.  The 
price  doesn't  count;  you  can  give  me  back  as  many 
bushels  as  you  get." 

"  Then,"  said  George  with  a  slight  flush,  "  you're 
more  generous  than  wise.  They  haven't  produced  a 


GRANT  COMES  TO  THE  RESCUE     235 

wheat  yet  that  will  stand  drought  and  hail.  Suppose 
I  have  another  year  like  last  ?  I'm  sorry  I  can't  let  you 
run  this  risk." 

"  We'll  quit  pretending.  I  owe  a  little  to  the  coun- 
try that  has  made  me  what  I  am,  and  these  new  hardy 
wheats  are  going  to  play  a  big  part  in  its  development. 
I  want  to  see  them  tried  on  the  poorest  land." 

"  That's  a  good  reason.  I  believe  it  goes  some  way, 
but  I  hardly  think  it  accounts  for  everything." 

His  companion  looked  at  him  with  fixed  directness. 

"  Then,  if  you  must  be  satisfied,  you're  my  neigh- 
bor; you  have  had  blamed  hard  luck  and  I  like  the 
way  you're  standing  up  to  it.  If  anybody's  on  meaner 
soil  than  yours  I  want  to  see  it.  Anyway,  here's  the 
seed;  take  what  you  need,  pay  me  back  when  you're 
able.  Guess  you're  not  too  proud  to  take  a  favor  that's 
gladly  offered." 

"  I'd  be  a  most  ungrateful  brute  if  I  refused," 
George  replied  with  feeling. 

"  That's  done  with,"  Grant  said  firmly ;  and  soon 
afterward  he  and  George  returned  to  the  other  room. 

After  a  while  he  went  out  with  Edgar  to  look  at  a 
horse,  and  George  turned  to  Flora. 

"  Your  father  has  taken  a  big  weight  off  my  mind, 
and  I'm  afraid  I  hardly  thanked  him,"  he  said. 

"  Then  it  was  a  relief?  "  she  asked,  and  it  failed  to 
strike  him  as  curious  that  she  seemed  to  know  what  he 
was  alluding  to. 

"  Yes,"  he  declared ;  "  I  feel  ever  so  much  more  con- 
fident now  that  I  can  get  that  seed.  The  fact  that  it 
was  offered  somehow  encouraged  me." 

'You  never  expected  anything  of  the  kind?  I've 
sometimes  thought  you're  apt  to  stand  too  much  alone. 


236  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

You  don't  attach  enough  importance  to  your  friends." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  admitted  George.  "  I've  been  very 
wrong  in  this  instance ;  but  I  suppose  one  naturally  pre- 
fers to  hide  one's  difficulties." 

"  I  don't  think  the  feeling's  universal.  But  you 
would,  no  doubt,  be  more  inclined  to  help  other  people 
out  of  their  troubles." 

George  looked  a  little  embarrassed,  and  she  changed 
the  subject  with  a  laugh. 

"  Come  and  see  us  when  you  can  find  the  time.  On 
the  last  occasion,  you  sent  your  partner  over." 

"  I'd  made  an  appointment  with  an  implement  man 
when  I  got  your  father's  note.  Anyway,  I  should  have 
fancied  that  Edgar  would  have  made  a  pretty  good 
substitute." 

"  Mr.  West  is  a  favorite  of  ours ;  he's  amusing  and 
excellent  company,  as  far  as  he  goes." 

Her  tone  conveyed  a  hint  that  Edgar  had  his  limita- 
tions and  he  was  not  an  altogether  satisfactory  ex- 
change for  his  partner;  but  George  laughed. 

"  He  now  and  then  goes  farther  than  I  would  care  to 
venture." 

Flora  looked  at  him  with  faint  amusement. 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  That's  one  of  the  differences 
between  you;  you're  not  assertive.  It  has  struck  me 
that  you  don't  always  realize  your  value." 

"  Would  you  like  one  to  insist  on  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  there's  a  happy  medium ;  but  I'm 
getting  rather  personal,  and  I  hear  the  others  com- 
ing." 

She  drove  away  a  little  later,  and  when  Flett  had 
gone  to  bed  George  and  Edgar  sat  talking  a  while  be- 
side the  stove. 


GRANT  COMES  TO  THE  RESCUE     237 

"  Grant's  a  staunch  friend,  and  I'm  more  impressed 
with  Flora  every  time  I  see  her,"  said  the  lad.  "  She's 
pleasant  to  talk  to,  she  can  harness  and  handle  a  team 
with  any  one ;  but  for  all  that,  you  recognize  a  trace  of 
what  I  can  only  call  the  grand  manner  in  her.  Though 
I  understand  that  she  has  been  to  the  old  country,  it's 
rather  hard  to  see  how  she  got  it." 

George  signified  agreement.  Miss  Grant  was  un- 
doubtedly characterized  by  a  certain  grace  and  now 
and  then  by  an  elusive  hint  of  stateliness.  It  was  a 
thing  quite  apart  from  self-assertion;  a  gracious  qual- 
ity, which  he  had  hitherto  noticed  only  in  the  bearing 
of  a  few  elderly  English  ladies  of  station. 

"  I  suppose  you  thanked  her  for  that  seed?  "  Edgar 
resumed. 

"  I  said  I  was  grateful  to  her  father." 

"I've  no  doubt  you  took  the  trouble  to  mark  the 
distinction.  It  might  have  been  more  considerate  if 
you  had  divided  your  gratitude." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  It's  hardly  likely  that  the  idea  of  helping  you  in 
that  particular  way  originated  with  Alan  Grant, 
though  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  had  been  allowed 
to  think  it  did." 

George  looked  surprised  and  Edgar  laughed. 

"  You  needn't  mind.  It's  most  improbable  that 
Miss  Grant  either  wished  or  expected  you  to  under- 
stand. She's  a  very  intelligent  young  lady." 

"  It  strikes  me  that  you  talk  too  much,"  George  said 
severely. 

He  went  out,  feeling  a  little  disturbed  by  what 
Edgar  had  told  him,  but  unable  to  analyze  his  sensa- 
tions. Putting  on  his  furs,  he  proceeded  to  look 


238  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

around  the  stable,  as  he  had  fallen  into  a  habit  of  do- 
ing before  he  went  to  rest.  There  was  a  clear  moon 
in  the  sky,  and  although  the  black  shadow  of  the  build- 
ings stretched  out  across  the  snow,  George  on  ap- 
proaching one  noticed  a  few  footprints  that  led  toward 
it.  There  were  numerous  other  tracks  about,  but  he 
thought  that  those  he  was  looking  at  had  been  made 
since  he  had  last  entered  the  house.  This,  however, 
did  not  surprise  him,  for  Flett  had  recently  visited  the 
stable. 

On  entering  the  building,  George  stopped  to  feel 
for  a  lantern  which  was  kept  on  a  shelf  near  the  door. 
The  place  was  very  dark  and  pleasantly  warm  by  con- 
trast with  the  bitter  frost  outside,  and  he  could  smell 
the  peppermint  in  the  prairie  hay.  Familiar  sounds 
reached  him  — the  soft  rattle  of  a  shaking  rope,  the 
crackle  of  crushed  straw  —  but  they  were  rather  more 
numerous  than  usual,  and  while  he  listened  one  or  two 
of  the  horses  began  to  move  restlessly. 

The  lantern  was  not  to  be  found ;  George  wondered 
whether  Flett  had  carelessly  forgotten  to  replace  it. 
He  felt  his  way  from  stall  to  stall,  letting  his  hand 
fall  on  the  hind  quarters  of  the  horses  as  he  passed. 
They  were  all  in  their  places,  including  Flett's  gray, 
which  lashed  out  at  him  when  he  touched  it;  there 
was  nothing  to  excite  suspicion,  but  when  he  reached 
the  end  of  the  row  he  determined  to  strike  a  match  and 
look  for  the  lantern.  He  was  some  time  feeling  for 
the  match-box  under  his  furs,  and  while  he  did  so  he 
heard  a  soft  rustling  in  the  stall  nearest  the  door. 
This  was  curious,  for  the  stall,  being  a  cold  one,  was 
unoccupied,  and  there  was  something  significantly 
stealthy  in  the  sound;  but  it  ceased,  and  while  he  lis- 


GRANT  COMES  TO  THE  RESCUE     239 

tened  with  strained  attention  a  horse  moved  and 
snorted.  Then,  while  he  fumbled  impatiently  at  a 
button  of  his  skin  coat  which  would  not  come  loose, 
an  icy  draught  stole  into  the  building. 

It  was  obvious  that  the  door  was  open ;  he  had  left 
it  shut. 

Breaking  off  his  search  for  the  matches,  he  made 
toward  the  entrance  and  sprang  out.  There  was  no- 
body upon  the  moonlit  snow,  and  the  shadows  were 
hardly  deep  enough  to  conceal  a  lurking  man.  He 
ran  toward  the  end  of  the  rather  long  building;  but, 
as  it  happened,  he  had  to  make  a  round  to  avoid  a 
stack  of  wood  and  a  wagon  on  the  way.  When  he 
turned  the  corner,  the  other  side  of  the  stable  was 
clear  in  the  moonlight  and,  so  far  as  he  could  see,  the 
snow  about  it  was  untrodden.  It  looked  as  if  he  had 
made  for  the  wrong  end  of  the  building,  and  he  re- 
traced his  steps  toward  a  barn  that  stood  near  its  op- 
posite extremity.  Running  around  it,  he  saw  nobody, 
nor  any  footprints  that  seemed  to  have  been  recently 
made;  and  while  he  stood  wondering  what  he  should 
do  next,  Grierson  appeared  between  him  and  the 
house. 

"Were  you  in  the  stables  a  minute  or  two  ago?" 
George  called  to  him. 

"  No,"  said  the  other  approaching.  "  I'd  just  come 
out  for  some  wood  when  I  saw  you  run  round  the 
bam." 

George  gave  him  a  brief  explanation,  and  the  man 
looked  about. 

"  Perhaps  we'd  better  search  the  buildings ;  if  there 
was  any  stranger  prowling  round,  he  might  have 
dodged  you  in  the  shadow.  It's  hardly  likely  he'd 


240  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

make  for  the  prairie;  the  first  clump  of  brush  big 
enough  to  hide  a  man  is  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off." 

They  set  about  the  search,  but  found  nobody,  and 
George  stopped  outside  the  last  building  with  a  puz- 
zled frown  on  his  face. 

"  It's  very  strange,"  he  said.  "  I  left  the  door  shut ; 
I  couldn't  be  mistaken." 

"  Look ! "  cried  Grierson,  clutching  his  arm. 
"  There's  no  mistaking  about  that !  " 

Turning  sharply,  George  saw  a  dim  mounted  figure 
cross  the  crest  of  a  low  rise  some  distance  away  and 
vanish  beyond  it. 

"  The  fellow  must  have  run  straight  for  the  poplar 
scrub,  keeping  the  house  between  you  and  him,"  Grier- 
son explained.  "  He'd  have  left  his  horse  among  the 
brush." 

"  I  suppose  that  was  it,"  George  said  angrily.  "  As 
there's  no  chance  of  overtaking  him,  we'll  have  a  look 
at  the  horses,  with  a  light,  and  then  let  Flett  know." 

There  was  nothing  wrong  in  the  stable,  where  they 
found  the  lantern  George  had  looked  for  flung  down 
in  the  empty  stall,  and  in  a  very  short  space  of  time 
after  they  had  called  him  Flett  appeared.  He  walked 
round  the  buildings  and  examined  some  of  the  foot- 
prints with  a  light,  and  then  he  turned  to  George. 

"  Looks  like  an  Indian  by  his  stride,"  he  said. 
"  Guess  I'll  have  to  saddle  up  and  start." 

"  You  could  hardly  come  up  with  the  fellow ;  he'll 
have  struck  into  one  of  the  beaten  trails,  so  as  to  leave 
no  tracks,"  Edgar  pointed  out. 

"  That's  so,"  said  Flett.  "  I  don't  want  to  come  up 
with  him.  It  wouldn't  be  any  use  when  your  partner 
and  Grierson  couldn't  s^'ear  to  the  man." 


GRANT  COMES  TO  THE  RESCUE     241 

"  What  could  have  been  his  object?  "  George  asked. 
"  He  seems  to  have  done  no  harm." 

"  He  wanted  to  see  if  my  gray  was  still  in  the  sta- 
ble," Flett  said  dryly.  "  His  friends  have  some  bus- 
iness they'd  sooner  I  didn't  butt  into  fixed  up  some- 
where else." 

"  But  you  have  no  idea  where?  " 

"  I  haven't;  that's  the  trouble.  There  are  three  or 
four  different  trails  I'd  like  to  watch,  and  I  quite  ex- 
pect to  strike  the  wrong  one.  Then,  if  the  man  knows 
you  saw  him,  he  might  take  his  friends  warning  to 
change  their  plans.  All  the  same,  I'll  get  off." 

He  rode  away  shortly  afterward,  and  as  the  others 
went  back  toward  the  house  Edgar  laughed. 

"  I  don't  think  being  a  police  trooper  has  many  at- 
tractions in  winter,"  he  remarked.  "  Hiding  in  a 
bluff  for  several  hours  with  the  temperature  forty  de- 
grees below,  on  the  lookout  for  fellows  who  have 
probably  gone  another  way,  strikes  me  as  a  very  un- 
pleasant occupation." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE   SPREAD   OF   DISORDER 

T7LETT  spent  a  bitter  night,  keeping  an  unavailing 
•*•  watch  among  the  willows  where  a  lonely  trail 
dipped  into  a  ravine.  Not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness 
of  the  white  prairie,  and  realizing  that  the  men  he 
wished  to  surprise  had  taken  another  path,  he  left  his 
hiding-place  shortly  before  daylight.  He  was  almost 
too  cold  and  stiff  to  mount ;  but  as  his  hands  and  feet 
tingled  painfully,  it  was  evident  that  they  had  escaped 
frostbite,  and  that  was  something  to  be  thankful  for. 
Reaching  an  outlying  farm,  he  breakfasted  and 
rested  a  while,  after  which  he  rode  on  to  the  Indian 
reservation,  where  he  found  signs  of  recent  trouble. 
A  man  to  whom  he  was  at  first  refused  access  lay  with 
a  badly  battered  face  in  a  shack  which  stood  beside  a 
few  acres  of  roughly  broken  land;  another  man  suf- 
fering from  what  looked  like  an  ax  wound  sat  hud- 
dled in  dirty  blankets  in  a  teepee.  It  was  obvious  that 
a  fight,  which  Flett  suspected  was  the  result  of  a 
drunken  orgy,  had  been  in  progress  not  long  before; 
but  he  could  find  no  liquor  nor  any  man  actually  under 
its  influence,  though  the  appearance  of  several  sug- 
gested that  they  were  recovering  from  a  debauch.  He 
discovered,  however,  in  a  poplar  thicket  the  hide  of  a 
steer,  from  which  a  recent  breeze  had  swept  its  cov- 
ering of  snow.  This  was  a  serious  matter,  and  though 

242 


THE  SPREAD  OF  DISORDER       243 

the  brand  had  been  removed,  Flett  identified  the  skin 
as  having  belonged  to  an  animal  reported  to  him  as 
missing. 

He  had  now,  when  dusk  was  approaching,  two 
charges  of  assault  and  one  of  cattle-killing  to  make, 
and  it  would  not  be  prudent  to  remain  upon  the  reser- 
vation during  the  night  with  anybody  he  arrested. 
The  Indians  were  in  a  sullen,  threatening  mood ;  it  was 
difficult  to  extract  any  information,  and  Flett  was 
alone.  He  was,  however,  not  to  be  daunted  by  angry 
looks  or  ominous  mutterings,  and  by  persistently 
questioning  the  injured  men  he  learned  enough  to 
warrant  his  making  two  arrests;  though  he  decided 
that  the  matter  of  the  hide  must  be  dropped  for  the 
present. 

It  was  in  a  state  of  nervous  tension  that  he  mounted 
and  drove  his  prisoners  on  a  few  paces  in  front  of  him. 
If  he  could  get  them  into  the  open,  he  thought  he 
would  be  safe,  but  the  reservation  was,  for  the  most 
part,  a  tract  of  brush  and  bluff,  pierced  by  ravines, 
among  which  he  half  expected  an  attempt  would  be 
made  to  facilitate  their  escape.  For  all  that,  he  was, 
so  far  as  appearances  went,  very  calm  and  grim  when 
he  set  out,  and  his  prisoners,  being  ahead,  did  not  no- 
tice that  he  searched  each  taller  patch  of  brush  they 
entered  with  apprehensive  glances.  Nor  did  they  see 
his  hand  drop  to  his  pistol-butt  when  something  moved 
in  the  bushes  as  they  went  down  the  side  of  a  dark 
declivity. 

There  was,  however,  no  interference,  and  he  felt 
more  confident  when  he  rode  out  into  the  moonlight 
which  flooded  the  glittering  prairie.  Here  he  could 
deal  with  any  unfavorable  developments;  but  it  was 


244  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

several  leagues  to  the  nearest;  shelter,  and  the  Indians 
did  not  seem  imrimrd  to  travel  fast.  The  half-frozen 
constable  would  gladly  have  walked,  only  that  he  felt 
more  master  of  the  situation  upon  his  horse.  Mile 
after  mue,  they  crossed  the  vast  white  waste,  without 
a  word  being  spoken,  except  when  the  shivering  man 
sternly  hade  his  prisoners,  "Get  on!" 

Hand-raffed  as  they  were,  he  dare  not  relax  his 
vigilance  nor  let  them  fall  back  too  near  him:  and  he 
bad  spent  the  previous  night  in  the  bitter  frost.  At 
times  be  fdt  painfully  diom>y,  but  he  had  learned  to 
overcome  most  bodily  weaknesses,  and  his  eyes  only 
left  the  dark,  plnAin^r  figures  in  front  of  him  when 
he  swept  a  *r«inliiiig  glance  across  the  plain.  Moth- 
ing  moved  on  it,  and  only  the  soft  crunch  of  snow 
broke  the  dreary  silence.  At  last,  a  duster  of  low 
rose  out  of  the  waste,  and  soon  afterward 


Flett  got  down  with  difficulty  and  demanded  shelter. 
The  rudely  awakened  fjinif  i  gave  htm  the  u^e  of  his 
kitrhrn,  in  which  a  stove  was  burning;  and  while  the 
Indians  went  to  sleep  on  the  floor,  Flett,  choosing  an 
•••comfortable  upright  chair.  lighted  his  pipe  and  sat 
down  to  keep  another  vigfl.  When  dawn  broke,  his 
eyes  were  still  open,  though  his  face  was  a  little  hag- 
gard and  very  weary. 

He  obtained  a  conviction  for  assault;  but,  as  the 
cluiges  of  catdc-kilhug  and  being  in  possession  of 
liquor  had  to  be  dropped,  this  was  small  consolation, 
It  left  the  men  he  considered  responsible  absolutely 

-~jt  ____  ^_  ,  fl 

HB  MKBBBj 

Afterward,  be  played  a  part  in  other  somewhat 
similar  affairs,  for  offenses  were  rapidly  becoming 
more  uomeiuus  among  both  Indian*  and  mean  whites; 


THE  SPREAD  OE  DISORDER       245 

bat  in  spite  of  his  efforts  the  gang  he  suspected  man- 
aged to  evade  the  grip  of  the  law.  Fktt,  however, 
was  far  from  despairing;  he  waited  his  time  and 
watched. 

While  he  did  so,  spring  came,  unusually  early.  A 
warm  west  wind  swept  the  snow  away  and  for  a  week 
or  two  the  softened  prairie  was  almost  impassable  to 
vehicles.  Then  the  wind  veered  to  the  northwest  with 
bright  sunshine,  the  soil  began  to  dry,  and  George  set 
out  on  a  visit  to  Brandon  where  he  had  some  business 
to  transact. 

Reaching  Sage  Botte  in  the  afternoon,  he  found  it 
suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  thaw.  A  swollen 
creek  had  converted  the  ground  on  one  side  of  the 
track  into  a  shallow  lake;  die  front  street  resembled 
a  muskeg,  furrowed  deep  by  sinking  wheels.  The 
vehicles  outside  the  hotels  were  covered  with  sticky 
mire ;  the  high,  plank  sidewalks  were  slippery  with  it, 
and  foot  passengers  when  forced  to  leave  them  sank 
far  up  their  long  boots ;  one  or  two  of  the  stores  were 
almost  cut  off  by  the  pools.  It  rained  between  gleams 
of  sunshine,  and  masses  of  dark  cloud  rolled  by  above 
the  dripping  town  and  wet  prairie,  which  had  turned 
a  dingy  gray. 

As  he  was  proceeding  along  one  sidewalk,  George 
met  Hardie,  and  it  struck  him  that  the  man  was  look- 
ing dejected  and  worn. 

"  Win  you  come  back  with  me  and  wait  for  sup- 
per?" he  asked.  "  I'd  be  glad  of  a  talk/* 

" I  think  not,"  said  George.  "You're  on  the  far 
side  of  the  town  and  there  are  two  streets  to  cross; 
you  see,  I'm  going  to  Brandon,  and  111  take  enough 
gumbo  into  the  cars  with  me,  as  it  is.  Then  my  train 


246  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

leaves  in  half  an  hour.     I  suppose  I  mustn't  ask  you 
to  come  into  the  Queen's?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  clergyman.  "  Our  old  guard  won't 
tolerate  the  smallest  compromise  with  the  enemy,  and 
there's  a  good  deal  to  be  said  for  their  point  of  view. 
After  all,  half-measures  have  seldom  much  result;  a 
man  must  be  one  thing  or  another.  But  we  might 
try  the  new  waiting-room  at  the  station." 

The  little  room  proved  to  be  dry  and  comparatively 
clean,  besides  being  furnished  with  nicely  made  and 
comfortable  scats.  Leaning  back  in  one  near  the 
stove,  George  turned  to  his  companion. 

"  How  are  things  going  round  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Very  much  as  I  expected ;  we  tried  and  failed  to 
apply  a  check  in  time,  and  of  late  we  have  had  a  regu- 
lar outbreak  of  lawlessness.  At  first  sight,  it's  curi- 
ous, considering  that  three-fourths  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  district  are  steady,  industrious  folk,  and  a  pro- 
portion of  the  rest  are  capable  of  being  useful  citi- 
zens." 

'  Then  how  do  you  account  for  the  disorder  ?  " 

Hardie  looked  thoughtful. 

"  I  suppose  we  all  have  a  tendency  to  follow  a  lead, 
which  is  often  useful  in  an  organized  state  of  society; 
though  it  depends  on  the  lead.  By  way  of  counter- 
balance, we  have  a  certain  impatience  of  restraint. 
Granting  this,  you  can  see  that  when  the  general  tone 
of  a  place  is  one  of  sobriety  and  order,  people  who 
have  not  much  love  for  either  find  it  more  or  less  easy 
to  conform.  But,  if  you  set  them  a  different  example, 
one  that  slackens  restrictions  instead  of  imposing  them, 
they'll  follow  it,  and  it  somehow  seems  to  be  the 
rule  that  the  turbulent  element  exerts  the  stronger  in- 


THE  SPREAD  OF  DISORDER       247 

fluence.  Anyway,  it  becomes  the  more  prominent. 
You  hear  of  the  fellow  who  steals  a  horse  in  a  daring 
manner;  the  man  who  quietly  goes  on  with  his  plow- 
ing excites  no  notice." 

"  One  must  agree  with  that,"  George  replied. 
"  Popular  feeling's  fickle :  a  constant  standard  is 
needed  to  adjust  it  by." 

Hardie  smiled. 

"  It  was  given  us  long  ago.  But  I  can't  believe  that 
there's  much  general  sympathy  with  these  troublesome 
fellows.  What  I  complain  of  is  popular  apathy;  no- 
body feels  it  his  business  to  interfere ;  though  this  state 
of  things  can't  continue.  The  patience  of  respectable 
people  will  wear  out ;  and  then  one  can  look  for  drastic 
developments." 

"  In  the  meanwhile,  the  other  crowd  are  having  their 
fling." 

Hardie  nodded. 

"  That's  unfortunately  true,  though  the  lawbreakers 
have  now  and  then  come  off  second-best.  A  few  days 
ago,  Wilkie,  the  station-agent,  was  sitting  in  his  of- 
fice when  a  man  who  had  some  grievance  against  the 
railroad  walked  up  to  the  window.  Wilkie  told  him 
he  must  send  his  claim  to  Winnipeg,  and  the  fellow 
retorted  that  he  would  have  satisfaction  right  away 
out  of  the  agent's  hide.  With  that,  he  climbed  in 
through  the  window;  and  I  must  confess  to  a  feeling 
of  satisfaction  when  I  heard  that  he  left  the  station 
in  need  of  medical  assistance.  A  week  earlier,  Taun- 
ton,  of  the  store,  was  walking  home  along  the  track 
in  the  dark  after  collecting  some  of  his  accounts,  when 
a  man  jumped  out  from  behind  a  stock  of  ties  with  a 
pistol  and  demanded  his  wallet.  Taunton,  taken  by 


248  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

surprise,  produced  a  wad  of  bills,  but  the  thief  was 
a  little  too  eager  or  careless  in  seizing  them,  for  Taun- 
ton  grabbed  the  pistol  and  got  his  money  back.  After 
that,  he  marched  the  man  three  miles  along  the  track 
and  into  his  store.  I  don't  know  what  happened  then, 
but  I  heard  that  there  wrere  traces  of  a  pretty  lively 
scuffle." 

George  laughed,  but  his  companion  continued  more 
gravely : 

"  Then  we  have  had  a  number  of  small  disturbances 
when  the  men  from  the  new  link  line  came  into  town 

—  they've  graded  the  track  to  within  a  few  miles  now 

—  and    I    hold    Beamish    responsible;    they    haven't 
encouraged  these  fellows  at  the  Queen's.     In  fact,  I 
mean  to  walk  over  and  try  to  get  a  few  words  with 
them  as  soon  as  I  leave  you." 

"  One  would  hardly  think  Saturday  evening  a  very 
good  time,"  George  commented. 

His  train  came  in  shortly  afterward,  and  when  it 
had  gone  Hardie  went  home  for  a  rubber  coat,  and 
then  took  the  trail  leading  out  of  the  settlement.  He 
was  forced  to  trudge  through  the  tangled  grass  beside 
it  because  the  soft  gumbo  soil  stuck  to  his  boots  in 
great  black  lumps,  and  the  patches  of  dwarf  brush 
through  which  he  must  smash  made  progress  labori- 
ous. After  a  while,  however,  he  saw  a  long  trail  of 
black  smoke  ahead,  and  sounds  of  distant  activity  grew 
steadily  louder. 

There  was  an  angry  red  glare  on  the  western  hori- 
zon, though  the  light  was  beginning  to  fade,  when 
he  reached  the  end  of  the  new  line  and  found  a  crowd 
of  men  distributing  piles  of  gravel  and  spiking  down 
the  rails  which  ran  back,  gleaming  in  the  sunset,  lurid, 


THE  SPREAD  OF  DISORDER       249 

straight  and  level,  across  the  expanse  of  grass,  until 
they  were  lost  in  the  shadowy  mass  of  a  bluff.  Near 
the  men  stood  a  few  jaded  teams  and  miry  wagons; 
farther  on  a  row  of  freight-cars  occupied  a  side-track, 
a  little  smoke  rising  from  the  stacks  on  the  roofs  of 
one  or  two.  Their  doors  were  open,  and  on  passing, 
Hardie  noticed  the  dirty  blue  blankets  and  the  litter 
of  wet  clothing  in  the  rude  bunks.  As  he  approached 
the  last  car,  which  served  as  store  and  office,  a  man 
sprang  down  upon  the  line.  He  wore  wet  long  boots 
and  an  old  rubber  coat  stained  with  soil,  but  there  was 
a  stamp  of  authority  upon  his  bronzed  face. 

"  How  are  you  getting  on,  Mr.  Farren  ?  "  Hardie 
inquired. 

"Slowly,"  said  the  other;  "can't  catch  up  on 
schedule  contract  time.  We've  had  rain  and  heavy 
soil  ever  since  we  began.  The  boys  have  been  giving 
me  some  trouble,  too." 

"  You  won't  mind  my  having  a  few  words  with 
them?" 

"  Why,  no,"  said  Farren.  "  Guess  they  need  it  ; 
but  I'm  most  afraid  you'll  be  wasting  time.  The 
Scandinavians,  who're  quiet  enough  and  might  agree 
with  you,  can't  understand,  and  it's  quite  likely  that 
the  crowd  you  want  to  get  at  won't  listen.  Anyway, 
you  can  try  it  after  they've  dubbed  the  load  off  the 
gravel  train;  she's  coming  now." 

He  pointed  toward  a  smear  of  smoke  that  trailed 
away  across  the  prairie.  It  grew  rapidly  blacker  and 
nearer,  and  presently  a  grimy  locomotive  with  a  long 
string  of  clattering  cars  behind  it  came  down  the  un- 
even track.  It  had  hardly  stopped  when  the  sides  of 
the  low  cars  dropped,  and  a  plow  moved  forward  from 


250  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

one  to  another,  hurling  off  masses  of  gravel  that  fell 
with  a  roar.  Then  the  train,  backing  out,  came  to  a 
standstill  again,  and  a  swarm  of  men  became  busy 
about  the  line.  Dusk  was  falling,  but  the  blaze  of  the 
great  electric  light  on  the  locomotive  streamed  along 
the  track.  While  Hardie  stood  watching,  half  a 
dozen  men  dropped  their  tools  and  walked  up  to  his 
companion. 

"  We're  through  with  our  lot,"  announced  one. 
"  We're  going  to  the  Butte  and  we'll  trouble  you  for  a 
sub  of  two  dollars  a  man." 

"  You  won't  get  it,"  said  Farren  shortly.  "  I  want 
the  ties  laid  on  the  next  load." 

"  Then  you  can  send  somebody  else  to  fix  them. 
We're  doing  more  than  we  booked  for." 

"  You're  getting  paid  for  it." 

"  Shucks !  "  said  the  other  contemptuously.  "  What 
we  want  is  an  evening  at  the  Butte;  and  we're  going 
to  have  it!  Hand  over  the  two  dollars." 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Farren.  "  I've  given  in  once  or 
twice  and  I've  got  no  work  out  of  you  for  most  two 
days  afterward.  You  can  quit  tie-laying,  if  you  in- 
sist; but  you'll  get  no  money  until  pay-day." 

One  of  the  men  pulled  out  his  watch. 

"  Boys,"  he  said,  "  if  we  stop  here  talking,  there 
won't  be  much  time  left  for  a  jag  when  we  make  the 
Butte.  Are  you  going  to  let  him  bluff  you  ?  " 

The  growl  from  the  others  was  ominous.  They  had 
been  working  long  hours  at  high  pressure  in  the  rain, 
and  had  suffered  in  temper.  One  of  them  strode  for- 
ward and  grasped  Farren's  shoulder. 

"  Now,"  he  demanded,  "  hand  out !  It's  our 
money." 


THE  SPREAD  OF  DISORDER       251 

There  was  only  one  course  open  to  Farren.  His 
position  was  not  an  easy  one,  and  if  he  yielded,  his 
authority  would  be  gone. 

His  left  arm  shot  out  and  the  man  went  down  with 
a  crash.  Then  the  others  closed  with  him  and  a  sav- 
age struggle  began. 

Hardie  laid  hold  of  a  man  who  had  picked  up  an 
iron  bar,  and  managed  to  wrest  it  from  him,  but 
another  struck  him  violently  on  the  head,  and  he  had 
a  very  indistinct  idea  of  what  went  on  during  the  next 
minute  or  two.  There  was  a  struggling  knot  of  men 
pressed  against  the  side  of  the  car,  but  it  broke  up 
when  more  figures  came  running  up  and  one  man  cried 
out  sharply  as  he  was  struck  by  a  heavy  lump  of  gravel. 
Then  Hardie  found  himself  kneeling  beside  Farren, 
who  lay  senseless  near  the  wheels  with  the  blood  run- 
ning down  his  set  white  face.  Behind  him  stood  the 
panting  locomotive  engineer,  trying  to  hold  back  the 
growing  crowd. 

"  Looks  pretty  bad,"  he  said.  "  What's  to  be  done 
with  him  ?  " 

"  We  had  better  get  him  into  his  bunk,"  directed 
Hardie.  "  Then  I'll  make  for  the  Butte  as  fast  as  I 
can  and  bring  the  doctor  out." 

"  It  would  take  two  hours,"  objected  the  engineer, 
as  he  gently  removed  Farren's  hat.  "  Strikes  me  as 
a  mighty  ugly  gash ;  the  thing  must  be  looked  to  right 
away.  If  I  let  her  go,  throttle  wide,  we  ought  to  make 
Carson  in  half  an  hour,  and  they've  a  smart  doctor 
there."  He  said  something  to  his  fireman  and  added : 
"  Get  hold ;  we'll  take  him  along." 

It  looked  as  if  the  outbreak  had  nut  met  with  general 
approval,  for  a  number  of  the  bystanders  offered  their 


252  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

t 

help  and  the  injured  man  was  carefully  carried  to  the 
locomotive. 

"  I'll  run  the  cars  along  as  far  as  the  gravel  pit ; 
then  I  can  book  the  journey,"  the  engineer  said  to 
Hardie.  "  But  as  I  can't  get  off  at  the  other  end, 
you'll  have  to  come  along." 

Hardie  wondered  how  he  would  get  back,  but  that 
was  not  a  matter  of  great  consequence,  though  he  had 
to  preach  at  Sage  Butte  in  the  morning,  and  he  climbed 
up  when  Farren  had  been  lifted  into  the  cab.  Then 
he  sat  down  on  the  floor  plates  and  rested  the  uncon- 
scious man's  head  and  shoulders  against  his  knees  as 
the  engine  began  to  rock  furiously.  Nothing  was  said 
for  a  while;  the  uproar  made  by  the  banging  cars 
would  have  rendered  speech  inaudible,  but  when  they 
had  been  left  behind,  the  engineer  looked  at  Hardie. 

"  In  a  general  way,  it's  not  the  thing  to  interfere 
in  a  row  with  a  boss,"  he  said.  "  Still,  four  to  two, 
with  two  more  watching  out  for  a  chance  to  butt  in, 
is  pretty  steep  odds,  and  Farren's  a  straight  man.  I 
felt  quite  good  when  I  hit  one  of  those  fellows  with 
a  big  lump  of  gravel." 

Hardie  could  understand  his  sensations  and  did  not 
rebuke  him.  So  far  as  his  experience  went,  the  west- 
ern locomotive  crews  were  of  an  excellent  type,  and 
he  was  willing  to  admit  that  there  were  occasions  when 
the  indignation  of  an  honest  man  might  be  expressed 
in  vigorous  action. 

"  It  was  really  four  to  one,  which  makes  the  odds 
heavier,"  he  said. 

"  I  guess  not,"  rejoined  the  engineer  with  a  smile. 
"  You  were  laying  into  one  of  them  pretty  lively  as  I 
ran  up." 


THE  SPREAD  OF  DISORDER       253 

Hardie  felt  a  little  disconcerted.  Having  been 
partly  dazed  by  the  blow  he  had  received,  he  had  no 
clear  recollection  of  the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  scrim- 
mage, though  he  had  been  conscious  of  burning  anger 
when  Farren  was  struck  down.  It  was,  however,  dif- 
ficult to  believe  that  the  engineer  had  been  mistaken, 
because  the  locomotive  lamp  had  lighted  the  track 
brilliantly. 

"  Anyway,  one  of  them  put  his  mark  on  you,"  re- 
sumed his  companion.  "  Did  you  notice  it,  Pete?  " 

"  Sure,"  said  the  grinning  fireman ;  "  big  lump  on 
his  right  cheek."  He  fumbled  in  a  box  and  handed  a 
tool  to  Hardie.  "  Better  hold  that  spanner  to  it,  if 
you're  going  to  preach  to-morrow.  But  how's  Far- 
ren?" 

"  No  sign  of  consciousness.  The  sooner  we  can  get 
him  into  a  doctor's  hands,  the  better." 

"  Stir  her  up,"  ordered  the  engineer,  and  nodded 
when  his  comrade  swung  back  the  fire-door  and  hurled 
in  coal.  Then  he  turned  to  Hardie.  "  We're  losing 
no  time.  She's  running  to  beat  the  Imperial  Limited 
clip,  and  the  track's  not  worked  down  yet  into  its 
bed." 

Hardie,  looking  about  for  a  few  moments,  thought 
the  speed  could  not  safely  be  increased.  There  was 
a  scream  of  wind  about  the  cab,  though  when  he  had 
stood  upon  the  track  the  air  had  been  almost  still;  a 
bluff,  which  he  knew  was  a  large  one,  leaped  up,  hung 
over  the  line,  and  rushed  away  behind;  the  great  en- 
gine was  rocking  and  jolting  so  that  he  could  hardly 
maintain  his  position,  and  the  fireman  shuffled  about 
with  the  erratic  motion.  Then  Hardie  busied  himself 
trying  to  protect  Farren  from  the  shaking,  until  the 


254  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

scream  of  the  whistle  broke  through  the  confused 
sounds  and  the  pace  diminished.  The  bell  began  to 
toll,  and,  rising  to  his  feet,  Hardie  saw  a  cluster  of 
lights  flitting  back  toward  him.  Shortly  afterward 
they  stopped  beside  a  half-built  row  of  elevators. 

"  Guess  you'll  have  to  be  back  to-morrow,"  the  en- 
gineer said. 

Hardie  nodded. 

"  I've  been  rather  worried  about  it.  It  would  take 
me  all  night  to  walk." 

"  That's  so,"  agreed  the  other.  "  All  you  have  to 
do  is  to  see  Farren  safe  in  the  doctor's  hands  and 
leave  the  rest  to  me.  I've  got  to  have  some  water,  for 
one  thing."  He  turned  to  his  fireman.  "  We'll  put  in 
that  new  journal  babbit;  she's  not  running  sweet." 

The  clergyman  was  inclined  to  believe  that  the  re- 
pair was  not  strictly  needed,  though  it  would  account 
for  a  delay;  but  one  or  two  of  the  station  hands  had 
reached  the  engine  and,  following  instructions,  they 
lifted  Farren  down,  and  wheeled  him  on  a  baggage 
truck  to  the  doctor's  house.  The  doctor  seemed  to 
have  no  doubt  of  the  man's  recovery  but  said  that  he 
must  not  be  moved  again  for  a  day  or  two ;  and  Hardie 
went  back  to  the  station,  reassured  and  less  troubled 
than  he  had  been  for  some  time.  The  attitude  of  the 
engineer,  fireman,  and  construction  gang,  was  en- 
couraging. It  confirmed  his  belief  that  the  lawless 
element  was  tolerated  rather  than  regarded  with 
sympathy,  and  the  patience  of  the  remainder  of  the 
community  would  become  exhausted  before  long. 
Though  he  admitted  the  influence  of  a  bad  example, 
he  had  firm  faith  in  the  rank  and  file. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A    HARMLESS    CONSPIRACY 

the  evening  that  George  left  for  Brandon,  Ed- 
gar  drove  over  to  the  Grant  homestead. 

"  It's  Saturday  night,  my  partner's  gone,  and  I  felt 
I  deserved  a  little  relaxation,"  he  explained. 

"  It's  something  to  be  able  to  feel  that ;  the  men 
who  opened  up  this  wheat-belt  never  got  nor  wanted 
anything  of  the  kind,"  Grant  rejoined.  "  But  as  sup- 
per's nearly  ready,  you  have  come  at  the  right  time." 

Edgar  turned  to  Flora. 

"  Your  father  always  makes  me  feel  that  I  belong 
to  a  decadent  age.  One  can  put  up  with  it  from  him, 
because  he's  willing  to  live  up  to  his  ideas,  which  is 
not  a  universal  rule,  so  far  as  my  experience  of  moral- 
izers  goes.  Anyhow,  I'll  confess  that  I'm  glad  to 
arrive  in  time  for  a  meal.  The  cooking  at  our  place 
might  be  improved;  George,  I  regret  to  say,  never 
seems  to  notice  what  he  eats." 

'  That's  a  pretty  good  sign,"  said  Grant. 

"  It  strikes  me  as  a  failing  for  which  I  have  to  bear 
part  of  the  consequences." 

Flora  laughed. 

"If  you  felt  that  you  had  to  make  an  excuse  for 
coming,  couldn't  you  have  made  a  more  flattering 
one?" 

"  Ah ! "   said   Edgar,   "  you  have  caught  me  out. 

255 


256  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

But  I  could  give  you  a  number  of  better  reasons.  It 
isn't  my  fault  you  resent  compliments." 

Flora  rose  and  they  entered  the  room  where  the 
hired  men  were  gathering  for  the  meal.  When  it  was 
over,  they  returned  to  the  smaller  room  and  found 
seats  near  an  open  window,  Grant  smoking,  Flora 
embroidering,  while  Edgar  mused  as  he  watched  her. 
Dressed  in  some  simple,  light-colored  material,  which 
was  nevertheless  tastefully  cut,  she  made  an  attractive 
picture  in  the  plainly  furnished  room,  the  walls  of 
which  made  an  appropriate  frame  of  uncovered  native 
pine,  for  he  always  associated  her  and  her  father  with 
the  land  to  which  they  belonged.  There  was  nothing 
voluptuous  in  any  line  of  the  girl's  face  or  figure;  the 
effect  was  chastely  severe,  and  he  knew  that  it  con- 
veyed a  reliable  hint  of  her  character.  This  was  not 
marked  by  coldness,  but  rather  by  an  absence  of  su- 
perficial warmth.  The  calmness  of  her  eyes  spoke  of 
depth  and  balance.  She  was  steadfast  and  consistent; 
a  daughter  of  the  stern,  snow-scourged  North. 

Then  he  glanced  at  the  prairie,  which  ran  west, 
streaked  with  ochre  stubble  in  the  foreground,  then 
white  and  silvery  gray,  with  neutral  smears  of  poplar 
bluffs,  to  the  blaze  of  crimson  where  it  cut  the  sky.  It 
was  vast  and  lonely;  at  first  sight  a  hard,  forbidding 
land  that  broke  down  the  slack  of  purpose  and  drove 
out  the  sybarite.  He  had  sometimes  shrunk  from  it, 
but  it  was  slowly  fastening  its  hold  on  him,  and  he 
now  understood  how  it  molded  the  nature  of  its  in- 
habitants. For  the  most  part,  they  were  far  from  ef- 
fusive ;  some  of  their  ways  were  primitive  and  perhaps 
slightly  barbarous,  but  there  was  vigor  and  staunch- 
ness in  them.  They  stuck  to  the  friends  they  had 


A  HARMLESS  CONSPIRACY         257 

tried  and  were  admirable  in  action;  it  was  when,  as 
they  said,  they  were  up  against  it  that  one  learned 
most  about  the  strong  hearts  of  these  men  and  women. 

"  Lansing  will  be  away  some  days,"  Grant  said 
presently.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  next  week?  " 

"  Put  up  the  new  fence,  most  likely.  The  land's  a. 
little  soft  for  plowing  yet." 

"  That's  so.  As  you'll  have  no  use  for  the  teams, 
it  would  be  a  good  time  to  haul  in  some  of  the  seed 
wheat.  I've  a  carload  coming  out." 

"  A  carload !  "  exclaimed  Edgar  in  surprise,  remem- 
bering the  large  carrying  capacity  of  the  Canadian 
freight-cars.  "  At  the  price  they've  been  asking,  it 
must  have  cost  you  a  pile." 

"  It  did,"  said  Grant.  "  I  generally  try  to  get 
down  to  bed-rock  figure,  but  I  don't  mind  paying  it. 
The  fellow  who  worked  up  that  wheat  deserves  his 
money." 

"  You  mean  the  seed's  worth  its  price  if  the  crop 
escapes  the  frost  ?  " 

'  That  wasn't  quite  all  I  meant.  I'm  willing  to  pay 
the  man  for  the  work  he  has  put  into  it.  Try  to  figure 
the  cross  fertilizations  he  must  have  made,  the  varie- 
ties he's  tried  and  cut  out,  and  remember  it  takes  time 
to  get  a  permanent  strain,  and  wheat  makes  only  one 
crop  a  year.  If  the  stuff's  as  good  as  it  seems,  the 
fellow's  done  something  he'll  never  be  paid  for.  Any- 
way, he's  welcome  to  my  share." 

'  There's  no  doubt  about  your  admiration  for  hard 
work,"  declared  Edgar.  "  As  it  happens,  you  have 
found  putting  it  into  practise  profitable,  which  may 
have  had  some  effect." 

Grant's  eyes  twinkled. 


258  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Now  you  have  got  hold  of  the  wrong  idea.  You 
have  raised  a  different  point." 

"  Then,  for  instance,  would  you  expect  a  hired  man 
who  had  no  interest  in  the  crop  to  work  as  hard  as  you 
would?" 

"  Yes,"  Grant  answered  rather  grimly ;  "  I'd  see  he 
did.  Though  I  don't  often  pay  more  than  I  can  help, 
I  wouldn't  blame  him  for  screwing  up  his  wages  to 
the  last  cent  he  could  get;  but  if  it  was  only  half  the 
proper  rate,  he'd  have  to  do  his  share.  A  man's  re- 
sponsible to  the  country  he's  living  in,  not  to  his  em- 
ployer; the  latter's  only  an  agent,  and  if  he  gets  too 
big  a  commission,  it  doesn't  affect  the  case." 

"  It  affects  the  workman  seriously." 

"  He  and  his  master  must  settle  that  point  between 
them."  Grant  paused  and  spread  out  his  hands  forci- 
bly. "  You  have  heard  what  the  country  west  of  old 
Fort  Garby  —  it's  Winnipeg  now  —  was  like  thirty 
years  ago.  Do  you  suppose  all  the  men  who  made  it 
what  it  is  got  paid  for  what  they  did?  Canada 
couldn't  raise  the  money,  and  quite  a  few  of  them  got 
frozen  to  death." 

It  struck  Edgar  as  a  rather  stern  doctrine,  but  he 
admitted  the  truth  of  it;  what  was  more,  he  felt  that 
George  and  this  farmer  had  many  views  in  common. 
Grant,  however,  changed  the  subject. 

'  You  had  better  take  your  two  heavy  teams  in  to 
the  Butte  on  Monday;  I've  ordered  my  freight  there 
until  the  sandy  trails  get  loose  again.  Bring  a  couple 
of  spare  horses  along.  We'll  load  you  up  and  you 
can  come  in  again." 

"  Two  Clover-leaf  wagons  will  haul  a  large  lot  of 
seed  in  a  double  journey." 


A  HARMLESS  CONSPIRACY         259 

"  It's  quite  likely  you'll  have  to  make  a  third.  Don't 
you  think  you  ought  to  get  this  hauling  done  before 
Lansing  comes  home?  " 

A  light  broke  in  on  Edgar.  Grant  was,  with  some 
reason,  occasionally  called  hard;  but  he  was  always 
just,  and  it  was  evident  that  he  could  be  generous. 
He  meant  to  make  his  gift  complete  before  George 
could  protest. 

"  Yes,"  acquiesced  Edgar ;  "  it  would  be  better,  be- 
cause George  might  want  the  teams,  and  for  other 
reasons." 

The  farmer  nodded. 

"  That's  fixed.  The  agent  has  instructions  to  de- 
liver." 

Edgar  left  the  homestead  an  hour  later  and  spent 
the  Sunday  resting,  because  he  knew  that  he  would 
need  all  of  his  energy  during  the  next  few  days.  At 
dawn  on  the  following  morning  he  and  Grierson 
started  for  Sage  Butte,  and  on  their  arrival  loaded  the 
wagons  and  put  up  their  horses  for  the  night.  They 
set  out  again  before  sunrise  and  were  glad  of  the 
spare  team  when  they  came  to  places  where  all  the 
horses  could  scarcely  haul  one  wagon  through  the  soft 
black  soil.  There  were  other  spots  where  the  graded 
road  sloped  steeply  to  the  hollow  out  of  which  it  had 
been  dug,  and  with  the  lower  wheels  sinking  they  had 
to  hold  up  the  side  of  the  vehicle.  Great  clods  clung 
to  the  wheels ;  the  men,  plodding  at  the  horses'  heads, 
could  scarcely  pull  their  feet  out  of  the  mire,  and  they 
were  thankful  when  they  left  the  fences  behind  and 
could  seek  a  slightly  sounder  surface  on  the  grass. 

Even  here,  progress  was  difficult.  The  stalks  were 
tough  and  tangled  and  mixed  with  stiff,  dwarf  scrub, 


260  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

which  grew  in  some  spots  almost  to  one's  waist. 
There  were  little  rises,  and  hollows  into  which  the 
wagons  jolted  violently,  and  here  and  there  they  must 
skirt  a  bluff  or  strike  back  into  the  cut-up  trail  which 
traversed  it.  Toward  noon  they  reached  a  larger 
wood,  where  the  trees  crowded  thick  upon  the  track. 
When  Edgar  floundered  into  it,  there  appeared  to  be 
no  bottom.  Getting  back  to  the  grass,  he  surveyed 
the  scene  with  strong  disgust;  he  had  not  quite  got 
over  his  English  fastidiousness. 

Leafless  branches  met  above  the  trail,  and  little  bays 
strewn  with  trampled  brush  which  showed  where 
somebody  had  tried  to  force  a  drier  route,  indented 
the  ranks  of  slender  trunks.  Except  for  these,  the 
strip  of  sloppy  black  gumbo  led  straight  through  the 
wood,  interspersed  with  gleaming  pools.  Having  seen 
enough,  Edgar  beckoned  Grierson  and  climbed  a  low 
hillock.  The  bluff  was  narrow  where  the  road  pierced 
it,  but  it  was  long  and  the  ground  was  rough  and  cov- 
ered with  a  smaller  growth  for  some  distance  on  its 
flanks. 

"  There's  no  way  of  getting  round,"  he  said.  "  I 
suppose  six  horses  ought  to  haul  one  wagon  through 
that  sloo." 

"  It  looks  a  bit  doubtful,"  Grierson  objected.  "  We 
mightn't  be  able  to  pull  her  out  if  she  got  in  very  deep. 
We  could  dump  half  the  load  and  come  back  for  it." 

"  And  make  four  journeys?  It's  not  to  be  thought 
of;  two's  a  good  deal  too  many." 

They  yoked  the  three  teams  to  the  first  wagon, 
which  promptly  sank  a  long  way  up  its  high  wheels, 
and  while  the  men  waded  nearly  knee-deep  at  their 
heads,  the  straining  horses  made  thirty  or  forty  yards. 


A  HARMLESS  CONSPIRACY         261 

Then  Edgar  sank  over  the  top  of  his  long  boots  and  the 
hub  of  one  wheel  got  ominously  low. 

"  They've  done  more  than  one  could  have  expected ; 
I  hate  to  use  the  whip,  but  we  must  get  out  of  this  be- 
fore she  goes  in  altogether,"  he  said. 

Grierson  nodded.  He  was  fond  of  his  horses, 
which  were  obviously  distressed,  and  flecked  with 
spume  and  lather  where  the  traces  chafed  their  wet 
flanks;  but  to  be  merciful  would  only  increase  their 
task. 

The  whip-cracks  rang  out  like  pistol-shots;  and, 
splashing,  snorting,  struggling,  amid  showers  of  mire, 
they  drew  the  wagon  out  of  its  sticky  bed.  They 
made  another  dozen  yards;  and  then  Grierson  turned 
the  horses  into  one  of  the  embayments  where  there 
was  brush  that  would  support  the  wheels.  Edgar  sat 
down,  breathless,  upon  a  fallen  trunk. 

"  People  at  home  have  two  quite  unfounded  ideas 
about  this  country,"  he  said  disgustedly.  "  The  first 
is  that  money  is  easily  picked  up  here  —  which  doesn't 
seem  to  need  any  remark ;  the  second  is  that  they  have 
only  to  send  over  the  slackers  and  slouchers  to  reform 
them.  In  my  opinion,  a  few  doses  of  this  kind  oi 
thing  would  be  enough  to  fill  them  with  a  horror  of 
work."  He  replaced  the  pipe  he  had  taken  out. 
, "  It's  a  pity,  Grierson,  but  we  can't  sit  here  and 
smoke." 

They  went  on  and  nearly  capsized  the  wagon  in  a 
pool,  the  bottom  of  which  was  too  soft  to  give  them 
foothold  while  they  held  up  the  vehicle,  but  they  got 
through  it  and  one  or  two  others,  and  presently  came 
out,  dripping  from  the  waist  down,  on  to  the  drier 
prairie.  Then  Edgar  turned  and  viewed  their  track. 


262  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  It  won't  bear  much  looking  at ;  we  had  better  un- 
yoke," he  said.  "  If  anybody  had  told  me  in  England 
that  I'd  ever  flounder  through  a  place  like  that, 
I'd  — " 

He  paused,  seeking  for  words  to  express  himself 
fittingly. 

"  You'd  have  called  him  a  liar,"  Grierson  sug- 
gested. 

"  That  hardly  strikes  me  as  strong  enough,"  Edgar 
laughed. 

They  had  spent  two  hours  in  the  bluff  when  they 
brought  the  last  load  through,  and  sitting  down  in  a 
patch  of  scrub  they  took  out  their  lunch.  After  a 
while  Edgar  flung  off  his  badly  splashed  hat  and 
jacket  and  lay  down  in  the  sunshine. 

"  The  thing's  done ;  the  pity  is  it  must  be  done  again 
to-morrow,"  he  remarked.  "  In  the  meanwhile,  we'll 
forget  it;  I'll  draw  a  veil  over  my  feelings." 

They  had  finished  lunch  and  lighted  their  pipes 
when  a  buggy  appeared  from  behind  a  projecting 
clump  of  trees  and  soon  afterward  Flora  Grant  pulled 
up  her  horse  near  by.  Edgar  rose  and  stood  beside 
the  vehicle  bareheaded,  looking  slender  and  handsome 
in  his  loose  yellow  shirt,  duck  overalls,  and  long  boots, 
though  the  marks  of  the  journey  were  freely  scattered 
about  him.  Flora  glanced  at  the  jaded  teams  and  the 
miry  wagons  and  smiled  at  the  lad.  She  had  a  good 
idea  of  the  difficulties  he  had  overcome. 

"  The  trail  must  have  been  pretty  bad,"  she  said. 
"  I  struck  off  to  the  east  by  the  creek,  but  I  don't  think 
you  could  get  through  with  a  load." 

"  It  was  quite  bad  enough,"  Edgar  assured  her. 

Flora  looked  thoughtful. 


A  HARMLESS  CONSPIRACY         263 

"  You  have  only  two  wagons ;  we  must  try  to  send 
you  another,  though  our  teams  are  busy.  Didn't  you 
say  Mr.  Lansing  would  be  back  in  a  day  or  two  ?  " 

"  I  did,  but  I  got  a  note  this  morning  saying  he 
thought  he  had  better  go  on  to  Winnipeg,  if  I  could 
get  along  all  right.  I  told  him  to  go  and  stop  as  long 
as  he  likes.  Considering  the  state  of  the  trails,  I 
thought  that  was  wise." 

Flora  smiled.  She  knew  what  he  meant,  since  they 
had  agreed  that  all  the  seed  must  be  hauled  in  before 
his  comrade's  return. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  thank  you ;  it  would  be  difficult, 
and  George  can  ride  over  and  do  so  when  he  comes 
home,"  Edgar  resumed.  "  I  know  he'll  be  astonished 
when  he  sees  the  granary." 

"  If  he  comes  only  to  express  his  gratitude,  I'm 
inclined  to  believe  my  father  would  rather  he  stayed 
at  home." 

"  I  can  believe  it ;  but  I've  an  idea  that  Mr.  Grant 
is  not  the  only  person  to  whom  thanks  are  due." 

Flora  looked  at  him  sharply,  but  she  made  no  direct 
answer. 

"  Your  partner,"  she  said,  "  compels  one's  sympa- 
thy." 

"  And  one's  liking.  I  don't  know  how  he  does  so, 
and  it  isn't  from  any  conscious  desire.  I  suppose  it's 
a  gift  of  his." 

Seeing  she  was  interested,  he  went  on  with  a 
thoughtful  air: 

"  You  see,  George  isn't  witty,  and  you  wouldn't 
consider  him  handsome.  In  fact,  sometimes  he's  in- 
clined to  be  dull,  but  you  feel  that  he's  the  kind  of 
man  you  can  rely  on.  There's  not  a  trace  of  mean- 


264  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

ness  in  him,  and  he  never  breaks  his  word.  In  my 
opinion,  he  has  a  number  of  the  useful  English  vir- 
tues." 

"  What  are  they,  and  are  they  peculiarly  English  ?  " 

"I'll  call  them  Teutonic;  I  believe  that's  their  ori- 
gin. You  people  and  your  neighbors  across  the  fron- 
tier have  your  share  of  them." 

"  Thanks,"  smiled  Flora.  "  But  you  haven't  begun 
the  catalogue." 

"  Things  are  often  easier  to  recognize  than  to  de- 
scribe. At  the  top  of  the  list,  and  really  comprising 
the  rest  of  it,  I'd  place,  in  the  language  of  the  country, 
the  practical  ability  to  '  get  there.'  We're  not  in  the 
highest  degree  intellectual;  we're  not  as  a  rule  wor- 
shipers of  beauty  —  that's  made  obvious  by  the  prai- 
rie towns  —  and  to  be  thought  poetical  makes  us  shy. 
In  fact,  our  artistic  taste  is  strongly  defective." 

"If  these  are  virtues,  they're  strictly  negative  ones," 
Flora  pointed  out. 

"  I'm  clearing  the  ground,"  said  Edgar.  "  Where 
we  shine  is  in  making  the  most  of  material  things, 
turning,  for  example,  these  wilds  into  wheatfields, 
holding  on  through  your  Arctic  cold  and  blazing  sum- 
mer heat.  We  begin  with  a  tent  and  an  ox-team, 
and  end,  in  spite  of  countless  obstacles,  with  a  big 
brick  homestead  and  a  railroad  or  an  automobile. 
Men  of  the  Lansing  type  follow  the  same  course  con- 
sistently, even  when  their  interests  are  not  concerned. 
Once  get  an  idea  into  their  minds,  convince  them  that 
it's  right,  and  they'll  transform  it  into  determined  ac- 
tion. If  they  haven't  tools,  they'll  make  them  or  find 
something  that  will  serve;  effort  counts  for  nothing; 
the  purpose  will  be  carried  out." 


A  HARMLESS  CONSPIRACY        .265 

Flora  noticed  the  enthusiastic  appreciation  of  his 
comrade  which  his  somewhat  humorous  speech  re- 
vealed, and  she  thought  it  justified. 

"  One  would  imagine  Mr.  Lansing  to  be  resolute," 
she  said.  "  I  dare  say  it's  fortunate ;  he  had  a  heavy 
loss  to  face  last  year." 

"  Yes,"  returned  Edgar.  "  As  you  see,  he's  going 
on;  though  he  never  expected  anything  for  himself." 

"He  never  expected  anything?"  Flora  repeated 
incredulously.  "  What  are  you  saying?  " 

Edgar  realized  that  he  had  been  injudicious.  Flora 
did  not  know  that  Sylvia  Marston  was  still  the  owner 
of  the  farm  and  he  hesitated  to  enlighten  her. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  George  isn't  greedy ;  it  isn't  in 
his  nature." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he's  a  rich  man  and  is  merely 
farming  for  amusement  ?  " 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Edgar;  "  far  from  it!"  He  indi- 
cated the  miry  wagons  and  the  torn-up  trails.  "  You 
wouldn't  expect  a  man  to  do  this  kind  of  thing,  if  it 
wasn't  needful.  The  fact  is,  I  don't  always  express 
myself  very  happily;  and  George  has  told  me  that  I 
talk  too  much." 

Flora  smiled  and  drove  away  shortly  afterward, 
considering  what  he  had  said.  She  had  noticed  a 
trace  of  confusion  in  his  manner  and  it  struck  her  as 
significant. 

When  the  buggy  had  grown  small  in  the  distance, 
Edgar  called  to  Grierson  and  they  went  on  again. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

GEORGE    FEELS    GRATEFUL 

TT7HEN  George  returned  from  Winnipeg,  Edgar 
took  him  to  the  granary. 

'  You  may  as  well  look  at  the  seed  Grant  sent  you, 
and  then  you'll  be  able  to  thank  him  for  it,"  he  said. 
"  It's  in  here ;  I  turned  out  the  common  northern  stuff 
you  bought  to  make  room." 

"  Why  didn't  you  put  it  into  the  empty  place  in  the 
barn  ?  "  George  asked. 

"  I  wasn't  sure  it  would  go  in ;  there's  rather  a  lot 
of  it,"  Edgar  explained,  with  a  smile. 

George  entered  the  granary  and  stopped,  astonished, 
when  he  saw  the  great  pile  of  bags. 

"Is  all  of  that  the  new  seed?"  he  asked  incredu- 
lously. 

"  Every  bag,"  said  Edgar,  watching  him. 

George's  face  reddened.  He  was  stirred  by  mixed 
emotions :  relief,  gratitude,  and  a  feeling  of  confusion 
he  could  not  analyze. 

"  Grant  must  have  sent  the  whole  carload ! "  he 
broke  out. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  sent  most  of  it.  Grierson 
and  I  hauled  it  in;  and  a  tough  job  we  had  of  it." 

"  And  you  took  it  all,  without  protesting  or  sending 
me  word  ?  " 

266 


GEORGE  FEELS  GRATEFUL   267 

"  Yes,"  said  Edgar  coolly ;  "  that's  precisely  what 
I  did.  You  need  the  stuff ;  Grant  meant  you  to  have 
it,  and  I  didn't  want  to  offend  him." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  some  idea  what  that  seed  is 
worth?" 

"  I  dare  say  I  could  guess.  Our  people  at  home 
once  experimented  with  some  American  seed  potatoes 
at  three  shillings  each.  But  aren't  you  putting  the 
matter  on  a  rather  low  plane?  " 

George  sat  down  and  felt  for  his  pipe. 

"  I  feel  that  you  have  played  a  trick  on  me.  If  you 
had  only  let  me  know,  I  could  have  objected." 

"  Just  so ;  that's  why  I  kept  quiet,"  Edgar  laughed. 
"  The  seed's  here  and  you  ought  to  be  thankful.  Any- 
way, Grant  won't  take  it  back." 

"  What  have  I  done  that  I  should  get  this  favor  ?  " 
George  said  half  aloud. 

"  That's  so  characteristic ! "  Edgar  exclaimed. 
"  Why  must  you  always  be  doing  things  ?  Do  you 
imagine  that  whatever  one  receives  is  the  result  of  so 
much  exertion  ?  " 

"  I  don't  feel  the  least  interest  in  such  quibbles." 

"  I  can't  believe  it,"  Edgar  rejoined.  "  You're 
more  at  home  when  you  have  a  fence  to  put  up,  or  a 
strip  of  new  land  to  break."  Then  he  dropped  his 
bantering  tone.  "  There's  nothing  to  be  distressed 
about.  Grant  has  been  pretty  generous,  and  I  think 
he  and  Flora  need  thanking." 

"  That's  true ;  they've  made  me  feel  half  ashamed. 
I  never  expected  this." 

"  In  my  opinion,  the  sensation's  quite  unnecessary. 
You  have  given  a  few  people  a  lift  in  your  time,  and 
I've  an  optimistic  notion  that  actions  of  the  kind  re- 


268  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

coil  on  one,  even  though  it's  a  different  person  who 
makes  you  some  return." 

"  I  wish  you  would  stop  talking!  "  George  exclaimed 
impatiently. 

Edgar  mentally  compared  Flora  Grant  with  Sylvia, 
in  whom  he  disbelieved,  and  found  it  hard  to  restrain 
himself.  It  was,  he  felt,  a  great  misfortune  that 
George  could  not  be  made  to  see. 

"  Oh,  well !  "  he  acquiesced.  "  I  could  say  a  good 
deal  more,  if  I  thought  it  would  do  any  good,  but  as 
that  doesn't  seem  likely  I'll  dry  up." 

"  That's  a  comfort,"  George  said  shortly. 

He  left  the  granary  in  a  thoughtful  mood,  and  on 
the  following  evening  drove  over  to  the  Grant  home- 
stead. Its  owner  was  busy  somewhere  outside  when 
he  reached  it,  but  Flora  received  him  and  he  sat  down 
with  satisfaction  to  talk  to  her.  It  had  become  a 
pleasure  to  visit  the  Grants;  he  felt  at  home  in  their 
house.  The  absence  of  all  ceremony,  the  simple  Ca- 
nadian life,  had  a  growing  attraction  for  him.  One 
could  get  to  know  these  people,  which  was  a  different 
thing  from  merely  meeting  them,  and  George  thought 
this  was  to  some  extent  the  effect  of  their  surround- 
ings. He  had  always  been  conscious  of  a  closer  and 
more  intimate  contact  with  his  friends  upon  the  moun- 
tain-side or  the  banks  of  some  salmon  river  than  he 
had  ever  experienced  in  a  club  or  drawing-room.  For 
all  that,  Flora  sometimes  slightly  puzzled  him.  She 
was  free  from  the  affectations  and  restraints  of  arti- 
ficial conventionality,  but  there  was  a  reserve  about 
her  which  he  failed  to  penetrate.  He  wondered  what 
lay  behind  it  and  had  a  curious  feeling  that  Edgar 
either  guessed  or  knew. 


GEORGE  FEELS  GRATEFUL        269 

"Did  you  enjoy  your  visit  to  Winnipeg?"  she 
asked. 

"  It  was  a  pleasant  change  and  I  got  through  my 
business  satisfactorily.  Of  course,  I  didn't  go  for 
amusement." 

Flora  laughed. 

"  So  I  supposed ;  you're  growing  more  Canadian 
every  day.  But  you  meant  to  make  a  visit  to  England, 
which  couldn't  have  had  any  connection  with  business, 
last  winter,  didn't  you  ?  " 

George's  face  grew  serious.  He  had,  she  thought, 
not  got  over  his  disappointment. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  "  But  there  was  nothing  to  be 
done  here  then." 

"  So  the  things  that  should  be  done  invariably  come 
first  with  you  ?  " 

"  In  this  case  —  I  mean  as  far  as  they  concern  the 
farm  —  it's  necessary." 

Flora  considered  his  answer,  studying  him  quietly, 
though  she  had  some  sewing  in  her  hands.  Suppos- 
ing, as  she  had  once  thought,  there  was  some  English 
girl  he  had  longed  to  see,  he  could  have  made  the 
journey  later,  when  his  crop  had  been  sown,  even 
though  this  entailed  some  neglect  of  minor  operations 
that  required  his  care.  He  received,  as  she  had  learned 
with  interest,  few  English  letters,  so  there  was  nobody 
to  whom  he  wrote  regularly;  and  yet  his  disappoint- 
ment when  forced  to  abandon  his  visit  had  obviously 
been  keen.  There  was,  Flora  thought,  a  mystery  here. 

"After  all,"  she  said,  "the  feeling  you  have  indi- 
cated is  pretty  common  in  the  Canadian  wheat-belt." 

'  Then  why  should  you  expect  me  to  be  an  excep- 
tion ?  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I'm  at  least  as  anxious  as 


270  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

my  neighbors  to  be  successful.  That's  partly  why  I've 
come  over  to-night."  His  voice  grew  deeper  and  softer 
as  he  continued.  "  I  want  to  thank  you  and  your  fa- 
ther for  your  surprising  generosity." 

"  Surprising?  "  responded  Flora  lightly,  though  she 
was  stirred  by  the  signs  of  feeling  he  displayed.  "  Do 
you  know  you're  not  altogether  complimentary?" 

He  smiled. 

"  You'll  forgive  the  slip ;  when  one  feels  strongly, 
it's  difficult  to  choose  one's  words.  Anyway,  to  get 
that  seed,  and  so  much  of  it,  is  an  immense  relief. 
I'm  deeply  grateful;  the  more  so  because  your  action 
was  so  spontaneous.  I  haven't  a  shadow  of  a  claim  on 
you." 

Flora  put  down  her  sewing  and  looked  at  him  di- 
rectly. 

"  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  say  that  —  do  you  wish 
to  be  considered  a  stranger?" 

"  No,"  George  declared  impulsively.  "  It's  the  last 
thing  I  want.  Still,  you  see  — " 

She  was  pleased  with  his  eagerness,  but  she  checked 
him. 

"  Then,  as  you  have  a  gift  of  making  friends,  you 
must  take  the  consequences." 

"I  didn't  know  I  had  the  gift.  My  real  friends 
aren't  plentiful." 

"If  you  begin  to  count,  you  may  find  them  more 
numerous  than  you  think." 

"  Those  I  have  made  in  Canada  head  the  list." 

The  girl  felt  a  thrill  of  satisfaction.  This  was  not  a 
compliment ;  he  had  spoken  from  his  heart. 

"  After  all,  I  don't  see  why  you  should  insist  on 
thanking  me  as  well  as  my  father,  who  really  sent  you 


GEORGE  FEELS  GRATEFUL    271 

the  seed."  She  paused.  "  You  didn't  do  so  on  the 
last  occasion;  I  mean  at  the  time  when  it  was  prom- 
ised to  you." 

This  was  correct,  and  George  was  conscious  of  some 
embarrassment. 

"  Well,"  he  said  firmly,  "  I  think  I'm  justified." 

Flora  could  not  contradict  him,  and  she  was  glad  he 
felt  as  he  did.  She  liked  his  way  of  sticking  to  the 
point ;  indeed,  she  was  sensible  of  a  strong  liking  for 
the  man. 

During  the  next  minute  or  two  her  father  came  in. 
He  cut  short  George's  thanks,  and  then  took  out  his 
pipe. 

"  I  was  in  at  the  Butte  yesterday,"  he  said.  "  The 
police  have  got  the  men  who  knocked  Farren  out,  and 
Flett  says  they  mean  to  press  for  a  smart  penalty.  It's 
about  time  they  made  an  example  of  somebody.  When 
I  was  in,  I  fixed  it  up  to  turn  Langside  off  his  hold- 
ing." 

Flora  looked  up  with  interest. 

"  But  how  had  you  the  power  ?  "  George  asked. 

'  The  man  owes  me  four  hundred  dollars  for  a  horse 
and  some  second-hand  implements  I  let  him  have  nearly 
three  years  ago." 

"  But  he  has  broken  a  big  strip  of  his  land ;  it's  worth 
a  good  deal  more  than  you  lent  him." 

"Just  so.  He  owes  everybody  money  round  the 
Butte.  I  saw  Taunton  of  the  store  and  the  implement 
man  and  told  them  Langside  had  to  quit." 

;<  You  seem  to  have  found  them  willing  to  agree." 

Grant  broke  into  a  grim  smile. 

"  What  I  say  to  those  men  goes.  Then  I've  got  se- 
curity ;  they  know  I  could  pull  Langside  down." 


272  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

George  looked  at  Flora  and  was  slightly  surprised  at 
her  acquiescent  manner. 

"  It  sounds  a  little  harsh ;  a  good  harvest  might  have 
set  him  straight,"  he  said.  "  However,  I  suppose  you 
have  a  reason  for  what  you're  doing." 

"  That's  so.  Langside's  the  kind  of  man  I've  no 
use  for ;  he  takes  no  interest  in  his  place.  After  he  has 
put  in  half  a  crop,  he  goes  off  and  spends  his  time  do- 
ing a  little  railroad  work  and  slouching  round  the  sa- 
loons along  the  line." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  sufficient  to  justify  your  ruining 
him." 

"  I've  got  a  little  more  against  the  man.  Has  it 
struck  you  that  somebody  round  here,  who  knows  the 
trails  and  the  farmers'  movements,  is  standing  in  with 
the  liquor  boys." 

A  light  broke  in  upon  George.  Now  that  the  matter 
had  been  put  before  him,  he  could  recollect  a  number  of 
points  that  seemed  to  prove  the  farmer  right.  When 
cattle  had  been  killed,  their  owners  had  been  absent; 
horses  had  disappeared  at  a  time  which  prevented  the 
discovery  of  their  loss  from  being  promptly  made.  It 
looked  as  if  the  offenses  could  only  have  been  com- 
mitted with  the  connivance  of  somebody  in  the  neigh- 
borhood who  had  supplied  their  perpetrators  with  in- 
formation. 

"  I  believe  you've  got  at  the  truth,"  he  replied. 
"  Still,  it  must  be  largely  a  matter  of  suspicion." 

Grant  leaned  forward  on  the  table  and  his  face  grew 
stern. 

"  You'll  remember  what  Flett  said  about  our  system 
of  justice  sometimes  breaking  down.  In  this  matter, 
I'm  the  jury,  and  I've  thought  the  thing  over  for  the 


GEORGE  FEELS  GRATEFUL    273 

last  six  months,  weighing  up  all  that  could  be  said  for 
Langside,  though  it  isn't  much.  What's  more,  I've 
talked  to  the  man  and  watched  him ;  giving  him  every 
chance.  He  has  had  his  trial  and  he  has  to  go ;  there's 
no  appeal." 

George  could  imagine  the  thoroughness  with  which 
his  host  had  undertaken  his  task.  Grant  would  be  just, 
deciding  nothing  without  the  closest  test.  George  felt 
that  the  man  he  meant  to  punish  must  be  guilty.  For 
all  that,  he  looked  at  Flora. 

"  Have  you  been  consulted?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  understood,"  said  Flora.     "  And  I  agreed." 

Her  face  was  as  hard  as  her  father's  and  George  was 
puzzled. 

"  I  should  have  thought  you  would  have  been  in- 
clined to  mercy." 

Flora  colored  a  little,  but  she  looked  at  him  steadily. 

"  Langside  deserves  the  punishment  he  has  so  far 
escaped.  He's  guilty  of  what  my  father  thinks,  but 
there's  another  offense  that  I'm  afraid  will  never  be 
brought  home  to  him." 

George  admired  her  courage  as  he  remembered  a 
very  unpleasant  story  he  had  heard  about  a  pretty 
waitress  at  the  settlement.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  had 
doubted  it. 

"  Flora  wrent  to  see  the  girl  at  Regina.  They  found 
her  there  pretty  near  dying,"  Grant  explained  quietly. 

Recollecting  a  scene  outside  the  Sachem,  when  Flora 
had  accompanied  Mrs.  Nelson,  George  realized  that  he 
had  rather  overlooked  one  side  of  her  character.  She 
could  face  unpleasant  things  and  strive  to  put  them 
right,  and  she  could  be  sternly  just  without  shrinking 
when  occasion  demanded  it.  This,  however,  was  not 


274  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

V 

an  aspect  of  hers  that  struck  one  forcibly ;  he  had  gen- 
erally seen  her  compassionate,  cheerful,  and  consider- 
ate. Then  he  told  himself  that  there  was  no  reason 
why  he  should  take  any  interest  in  Flora  Grant's  qual- 
ities. 

"  I  suppose  Langside  will  be  sold  up,"  he  said. 

"  Open  auction,  though  I  guess  there  won't  be  much 
bidding.  Folks  round  here  don't  know  the  man  as  I 
do,  but  they've  good  reason  to  believe  the  money  will 
go  to  his  creditors,  and  there'll  be  nothing  left  for 
him." 

"The  foreclosure  won't  meet  with  general  favor," 
George  said  pointedly. 

"  That  doesn't  count.  It  strikes  one  as  curious  that 
people  should  be  ready  to  sympathize  with  the  slouch 
who  lets  his  place  go  to  ruin  out  of  laziness,  and  never 
think  of  the  storekeepers'  just  claim  on  the  money  he's 
wasted.  Anyway,  there's  nothing  to  stop  people  from 
bidding;  but,  in  case  they  hold  off,  we  have  fixed  up 
how  we'll  divide  the  property." 

It  was  obvious  to  George  that  the  position  of  Grant's 
associates  was  unassailable.  If  any  friends  of  Lang- 
side's  attempted  to  run  prices  up,  they  would  only  put 
the  money  into  his  creditor's  pockets;  if,  as  seemed 
more  probable,  they  discouraged  the  bidding,  the  cred- 
itors would  secure  his  possessions  at  a  low  figure  and 
recoup  themselves  by  selling  later  at  the  proper  value. 
George  realized  that  Grant  had  carefully  thought  out 
his  plans. 

"  I  don't  think  you  have  left  him  any  way  of  escape," 
he  said. 

"  No,"  replied  Grant ; "  we  have  got  him  tight.     You 


GEORGE  FEELS  GRATEFUL    275 

had  better  come  along  to  the  auction  —  you'll  get  no- 
tice of  it  —  and  see  how  the  thing  goes." 

George  said  that  he  would  do  so,  and  shortly  after- 
ward drove  away.  On  reaching  home  he  told  Edgar 
what  he  had  heard,  and  the  lad  listened  with  a  thought- 
ful expression. 

"  One  can't  doubt  that  Grant  knows  what  he's  do- 
ing, but  I'm  not  sure  he's  wise,"  he  said.  "  Though 
Langside's  a  regular  slacker,  he  has  a  good  many 
friends,  and  as  a  rule  nobody  has  much  sympathy  with 
exacting  creditors.  Then  it's  bound  to  come  out  that 
it  was  Grant  who  set  the  other  fellows  after  Langside ; 
and  if  he  buys  up  much  of  the  property  at  a  low  figure, 
the  thing  will  look  suspicious." 

"  I  tried  to  point  that  out." 

"  And  found  you  had  wasted  words  ?  Grant  would 
see  it  before  you  did,  and  it  wouldn't  have  the  least 
effect  on  him.  You  wouldn't  expect  that  man  to  yield 
to  popular  opinion.  Still,  the  thing  will  make  trouble, 
though  I  shall  not  be  sorry  if  it  forces  on  a  crisis." 

George  nodded. 

"  I'm  getting  tired  of  these  continual  petty  worries, 
and  keeping  a  ceaseless  lookout.  I  want  to  hit  back." 

"  You'll  no  doubt  get  your  chance.  What  about 
Miss  Grant's  attitude?" 

"  She  agreed  with  her  father  completely ;  I  was  a 
little  surprised." 

;<  That  was  quite  uncalled  for,"  said  Edgar  with  a 
smile.  "  It  looks  as  if  you  didn't  know  the  girl  yet. 
These  Westerners  are  a  pretty  grim  people." 

George  frowned  at  this,  though  he  felt  that  there 
was  some  truth  in  what  his  companion  said.  On  the 


276  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

whole,  he  was  of  the  same  mind  as  Grant ;  there  were 
situations  in  which  one  must  fearlessly  take  a  drastic 
course. 

"  The  sooner  the  trouble  begins,  the  sooner  it  will  be 
over,"  he  said.  "  One  has  now  and  then  to  run  the 
risk  of  getting  hurt" 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A    COUNTERSTROKE 

LANGSIDE'S  farm  was  duly  put  up  at  auction,  to- 
gether with  a  valuable  team  which  he  hired  out 
to  his  neighbors  when  he  left  the  place,  a  few  imple- 
ments and  a  little  rude  furniture.  The.  sale  was  held 
outside,  and  when  George  arrived  upon  the  scene  dur- 
ing the  afternoon  a  row  of  light  wagons  and  buggies 
stood  behind  the  rickety  shack,  near  which  was  an  un- 
sightly pile  of  broken  crockery,  discarded  clothes  and 
rusty  provision  cans.  It  was  characteristic  of  Lang- 
side  that  he  had  not  taken  the  trouble  to  carry  them  as 
far  as  the  neighboring  bluff.  In  front  of  the  bluff, 
horses  were  picketed;  along  the  side  ran  a  strip  of 
black  soil,  sprinkled  with  the  fresh  blades  of  wheat; 
and  all  round  the  rest  of  the  wide  circle  the  prairie 
stretched  away  under  cloudless  sunshine,  flecked  with 
brightest  green. 

A  thin  crowd  surrounded  the  auctioneer's  table,  but 
the  men  stood  in  loose  clusters,  and  George,  walking 
through  them,  noticed  that  the  undesirable  element  was 
largely  represented.  There  were  a  number  of  small 
farmers,  attracted  by  curiosity,  or  perhaps  a  wish  to 
buy;  but  these  kept  to  themselves,  and  men  from  the 
settlement  of  no  fixed  profession  who  worked  spas- 
modically at  different  tasks,  and  spent  the  rest  of  their 
time  in  the  Sachem,  were  more  plentiful.  Besides 

277 


278  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

these,  there  were  some  strangers,  and  George  thought 
the  appearance  of  several  was  far  from  prepossessing. 

It  was  a  glorious  day.  There  was  vigor  in  the  warm 
breeze  that  swept  the  grassy  waste;  the  sunshine  that 
bathed  the  black  loam  where  the  green  blades  were 
springing  up  seemed  filled  with  promise ;  but  as  the  sale 
proceeded  George  became  sensible  of  a  vague  com- 
punction. The  sight  of  the  new  wheat  troubled  him  — 
Langside  had  laboriously  sown  that  crop,  which  some- 
body else  would  reap.  Watching  the  battered  domestic 
utensils  and  furniture  being  carried  out  for  sale  had  the 
same  disturbing  effect.  Poor  and  comfortless  as  the 
shack  was,  it  had,  until  rude  hands  had  desecrated  it, 
been  a  home.  George  felt  that  he  was  consenting  to 
the  ruin  of  a  defenseless  man,  assisting  to  drive  him 
forth,  a  wanderer  and  an  outcast.  He  wondered  how 
far  the  terrors  of  loneliness  had  urged  Langside  into 
his  reckless  courses  —  homesteaders  scattered  about 
the  wide,  empty  spaces  occasionally  became  insane  — 
but  with  an  effort  he  overcame  the  sense  of  pity. 

Langside  had  slackly  given  way,  and,  choosing  an 
evil  part,  had  become  a  menace  to  the  community ;  as 
Grant  had  said,  he  must  go.  This  was  unavoidable, 
and  though  the  duty  of  getting  rid  of  him  was  painful, 
it  must  be  carried  out.  George  was  usually  unsus- 
picious and  of  easy-going  nature  up  to  a  certain  point, 
but  there  was  a  vein  of  hardness  in  him. 

Once  or  twice  the  auctioneer  was  interrupted  by 
jeering  cries,  but  he  kept  his  temper  and  the  sale  went 
on,  though  George  noticed  that  only  a  few  strangers 
made  any  purchases.  At  length,  when  the  small  sun- 
dries had  been  cleared  off,  there  was  a  curious  silence 


A  COUNTERSTROKE  279 

as  the  land  was  put  up.     It  was  evident  that  the  ma- 
jority of  those  present  had  been  warned  not  to  bid. 

The  auctioneer  made  a  little  speech  in  praise  of  the 
property,  and  paused  when  it  fell  flat;  then,  while 
George  wondered  what  understanding  the  creditors 
had  arrived  at  with  Grant,  a  brown-faced  stranger 
strode  forward. 

"  I've  been  advised  to  let  this  place  alone,"  he  said. 
"  I  suppose  you  have  a  right  to  sell  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  auctioneer.  "  Come  along, 
and  look  at  my  authority,  if  you  want.  It's  mortgaged 
property  that  has  been  foreclosed  after  the  creditors 
had  waited  a  long  while  for  a  settlement,  and  I  may 
say  that  the  interest  demanded  is  under  the  present 
market  rate.  Everything's  quite  regular;  no  injustice 
has  been  done.  If  you're  a  purchaser,  I'll  take  your 
bid." 

"  Then  I'll  raise  you  a  hundred  dollars,"  said  the 
man. 

There  was  a  growl  of  dissatisfaction,  and  the  stran- 
ger turned  to  the  part  of  the  crowd  from  which  it  pro- 
ceeded. 

'  This  is  an  open  auction,  boys.  I  was  born  in  the 
next  province,  and  I've  seen  a  good  many  farms  seized 
in  the  years  when  we  have  had  harvest  frost,  but  this 
is  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  anybody  try  to  interfere 
with  a  legal  sale.  Guess  you  may  as  well  quit  yapping, 
unless  you  mean  to  bid  against  me." 

There  was  derisive  laughter,  and  a  loafer  from  Sage 
Butte  threw  a  clod.  Then  another  growl,  more  angry 
than  the  first,  broke  out  as  Grant,  moving  forward  into 
a  prominent  place,  nodded  to  the  auctioneer.  His 


28o  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

rugged  face  was  impassive,  and  he  ignored  the  crowd. 
A  number  of  the  farmers  strolled  toward  him  and 
stood  near  by  with  a  resolute  air  which  had  its  effect 
on  the  others,  though  George  saw  by  Grant's  loeir  of 
surprise  that  he  had  not  expected  this.  Another  man 
made  a  bid,  and  the  competition  proceeded  languidly, 
but  except  for  a  little  mocking  laughter  and  an  occa- 
sional jeer,  nobody  interfered.  In  the  end,  the  stran- 
ger bought  the  land ;  and  soon  afterward  Grant  walked 
up  to  George. 

"  I  want  the  team,  if  I  can  get  it  at  a  reasonable 
figure;  they're  real  good  beasts  with  the  imported 
Percheron  strain  strong  in  them,"  he  said.  "  It  will 
be  a  while  before  they're  put  up,  and  I'd  be  glad  if  you 
could  ride  round  and  let  Flora  know  what's  keeping 
me.  I'd  an  idea  she  expected  there  might  be  some 
trouble  to-day." 

"I'll  get  off;  but  there's  a  mower  yonder  I  would 
like.  Will  you  buy  it  for  me,  if  it  goes  at  a  fair 
price  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  promised  Grant.  "  Tell  Flora  to  give 
you  supper;  and  if  you  ride  back  afterward  by  the 
trail,  you'll  meet  me  and  I'll  let  you  know  about  the 
mower." 

George  rode  away  shortly  afterward,  and  Grant 
waited  some  time  before  he  secured  the  team,  after 
rather  determined  opposition.  Finding  nobody  will- 
ing to  lead  the  horses  home,  he  hitched  them  to  the 
back  of  his  light  wagon  and  set  off  at  a  leisurely  pace. 
When  he  had  gone  a  little  distance,  he  overtook  a  man 
plodding  along  the  trail.  The  fellow  stopped  when 
Grant  came  up. 

"  Will  you  give  me  a  lift?  "  he  asked. 


A  COUNTERSTROKE  281 

The  request  is  seldom  refused  on  the  prairie,  and 
Grant  pulled  up  his  team. 

"  Get  in,"  he  said.     "  Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  North,"  answered  the  other,  as  he  clambered  up. 
"Looking  for  a  job;  left  the  railroad  yesterday  and 
spent  the  night  in  a  patch  of  scrub.  Heard  there  was 
stock  in  the  bluff  country ;  that's  my  line." 

Grant  glanced  at  the  fellow  sharply  as  he  got  into 
the  wagon  and  noticed  nothing  in  his  disfavor.  His 
laconic  account  of  himself  was  borne  out  by  his  appear- 
ance. 

"  It's  quite  a  way  to  the  first  homestead,  if  you're 
making  for  the  big  bluffs,"  he  said.  "  You  had  better 
come  along  with  me  and  go  on  in  the  morning." 

"  I'll  be  glad,"  responded  the  other.  "  These  nights 
are  pretty  cold,  and  my  blanket's  thin." 

They  drove  on,  and  after  a  while  the  stranger 
glanced  at  the  team  hitched  behind  the  vehicle. 

"  Pretty  good  beasts,"  he  remarked.  "  That  mare's 
a  daisy.  Ought  to  be  worth  a  pile." 

"  She  cost  it,"  Grant  told  him.  "  I've  just  bought 
her  at  a  sale." 

"  I  heard  the  boys  talking  about  it  when  I  was  get- 
ing  dinner  at  the  settlement,"  said  the  stranger  care- 
lessly. "  Called  the  fellow  whose  place  was  sold  up 
Langside,  I  think.  There's  nothing  much  wrong  with 
the  team  you're  driving." 

Grant  nodded;  they  were  valuable  animals,  for  he 
was  fond  of  good  horses.  He  was  well  satisfied  with 
his  new  purchases  and  knew  that  Langside  had  bought 
the  mare  after  a  profitable  haulage  contract  during  the 
building  of  a  new  railroad.  His  companion's  flatter- 
ing opinion  made  him  feel  rather  amiable  toward  him. 


282  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

It  was  getting  near  dusk  when  they  entered  a  strip 
of  broken  country,  where  the  ground  was  sandy  and 
lolled  in  low  ridges  and  steep  hillocks.  Here  and 
there  small  pines  on  the  higher  summits  stood  out 
black  against  the  glaring  crimson  light;  birches  and 
poplars  straggled  up  some  of  the  slopes ;  and  the  trail, 
which  wound  through  the  hollows,  was  loose  and 
heavy.  The  moist  sand  clogged  the  wheels  and  the 
team  plodded  through  it  laboriously,  until  they  came 
to  a  spot  where  the  melted  snow  running  into  a  de- 
pression had  formed  a  shallow  lake.  This  had  dried 
up,  but  the  soil  was  very  soft  and  marshy.  Grant 
pulled  up  and  glanced  dubiously  at  the  deep  ruts  cut 
in  the  road. 

"  There's  a  way  round  through  the  sand  and  scrub, 
but  it's  mighty  rough  and  I'm  not  sure  we  could  get 
through  it  in  the  dark,"  he  said. 

"  S'pose  you  double-yoke  and  drive  straight  ahead," 
suggested  the  other.  "  I  see  you  have  some  harness 
in  the  wagon." 

Grant  considered.  The  harness,  which  had  been 
thrown  in  with  his  purchase,  was  old  and  short  of  one 
or  two  pieces ;  it  would  take  time  and  some  contriving 
to  hitch  on  the  second  team,  and  the  light  was  failing 
rapidly.  When  he  had  crossed  the  soft  place,  there 
would  still  be  some  rough  ground  to  traverse  before 
he  reached  the  smoother  trail  by  which  George  would 
be  riding. 

"  It  might  be  as  quick  to  go  round,"  he  replied. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  his  companion,  firmly.  "  There's  a 
blamed  steep  bit  up  the  big  sandhill." 

Suspicion  flashed  on  Grant;  the  man  had  led  him 
to  believe  he  was  a  stranger  to  the  locality,  and  it  was 


A  COUNTERSTROKE  283 

significant  that  he  should  insist  upon  their  stopping 
and  harnessing  the  second  team. 

"  That's  so,"  he  returned.  "  Guess  you  had  better 
get  down  and  see  if  it's  very  soft  ahead." 

The  fellow  rose  with  a  promptness  which  partly 
disarmed  Grant's  suspicions,  and  put  his  foot  on  the 
edge  of  the  vehicle,  ready  to  jump  down.  Then  he 
turned  swiftly  and  flung  himself  upon  the  farmer, 
crushing  his  soft  felt  hat  down  to  his  chin.  Grant 
could  see  nothing,  and  while  he  strove  to  get  a  grip 
on  his  antagonist  he  was  thrown  violently  backward 
off  the  driving  seat.  The  wagon  was  of  the  usual 
high  pattern,  and  he  came  down  on  the  ground  with 
a  crash  that  nearly  knocked  him  unconscious.  Be- 
fore he  got  up,  he  was  seized  firmly  and  held  with  his 
shoulders  pressed  against  the  soil.  He  struggled, 
however,  until  somebody  grasped  his  legs  and  his 
arms  were  drawn  forcibly  apart.  It  was  impossible 
to  see,  because  the  thick  hat  was  still  over  his  face  and 
somebody  held  it  fast,  but  he  had  an  idea  that  three 
or  four  men  had  fallen  upon  him.  They  had,  no 
doubt,  been  hidden  among  the  brush;  the  affair  had 
been  carefully  arranged  with  his  treacherous  com- 
panion. 

"  Open  his  jacket ;  try  the  inside  pocket,"  cried 
one;  and  he  felt  hands  fumbling  about  him.  Then 
there  was  a  disappointed  exclamation.  "Check-book; 
that's  no  good !  " 

The  farmer  made  a  last  determined  effort.  After 
having  long  ruled  his  household  and  hired  men  as  a 
benevolent  but  decidedly  firm-handed  autocrat,  it  was 
singularly  galling  to  be  treated  in  this  unceremonious 
fashion,  and  if  he  could  only  shake  off  the  hat  and  get 


284  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

a  glimpse  of  his  assailants  he  would  know  them  again. 
Moreover,  he  had  brought  a  roll  of  bills  with  him,  in 
case  he  should  make  some  small  purchases.  He  was, 
however,  held  firmly,  and  the  hands  he  had  felt  dived 
into  another  pocket. 

"  Got  it  now !  "  cried  a  hoarse  voice.  "  Here's  his 
wallet ;  seems  to  have  a  good  wad  in  it !  " 

Grant,  though  he  was  generally  sternly  collected, 
boiled  with  fury.  He  felt  no  fear,  but  an  uncontrol- 
lable longing  to  grapple  with  the  men  who  had  so 
humiliated  him. 

"  Guess,  I'll  fix  you  up !  "  came  an  angry  voice  when 
Grant  managed  to  fling  off  one  pair  of  hands. 

Then  he  received  a  heavy  blow  on  the  head.  Some- 
body had  struck  him  with  the  butt  of  a  whip  or  riding 
quirt.  The  pain  was  distressing;  he  felt  dazed  and 
stupid,  disinclined  to  move,  but  he  retained  conscious- 
ness. There  were  sounds  to  which  he  could  attach  a 
meaning:  a  rattle  of  harness  which  indicated  that  his 
driving  team  was  being  loosened,  a  thud  of  hoofs  as 
the  heavier  Percherons  were  led  away.  In  the  mean- 
while he  could  still  feel  a  strong  grasp  on  his  shoulder, 
holding  him  down,  and  once  or  twice  a  man  near  him 
gave  the  others  sharp  instructions.  Grant  made  a 
languid  effort  to  fix  the  voice  in  his  memory,  but  this 
was  difficult  because  his  mind  worked  heavily. 

At  length  the  driving  team  was  unyoked  —  he 
could  hear  it  being  led  away  —  but  the  ache  in  his 
head  grew  almost  intolerable  and  his  lassitude  more 
intense.  For  a  while  he  had  no  idea  what  was  going 
on ;  and  then  a  hoarse  cry,  which  seemed  one  of  alarm, 
rang  out  sharply.  There  was  a  patter  of  running 
feet,  a  thud  of  hoofs  on  the  soft  soil,  and,  breaking 


A  COUNTERSTROKE  285 

through  these  sounds,  a  rhythmic  staccato  drumming. 
Somebody  was  riding  hard  across  the  uneven  ground. 

Gathering  his  languid  senses,  Grant  suddenly  moved 
his  head,  flinging  the  hat  from  his  face,  and  raised 
himself  a  little,  leaning  on  one  elbow.  There  was  no 
longer  anybody  near  him,  but  he  could  see  a  man  rid- 
ing past  a  shadowy  clump  of  trees  a  little  distance  off, 
leading  a  second  horse.  Closer  at  hand,  another  man 
was  running  hard  beside  one  of  the  Percherons,  and 
while  Grant  watched  him  he  made  an  effort  to  scram- 
ble up  on  the  back  of  the  unsaddled  animal,  but 
slipped  off.  Both  these  men  were  indistinct  in  the 
dim  hollow,  but  on  a  sandy  ridge  above,  which  still 
caught  the  fading  light,  there  was  a  sharply-outlined 
mounted  figure  sweeping  across  the  broken  ground  at 
a  reckless  gallop.  It  must  be  Lansing,  who  had  come 
to  the  rescue.  Grant  sent  up  a  faint,  hoarse  cry  of 
exultation.  He  forgot  his  pain  and  dizziness,  he  even 
forgot  he  had  been  assaulted;  he  was  conscious  only 
of  a  burning  wish  to  see  Lansing  ride  down  the  fellow 
who  was  running  beside  the  Percheron. 

There  was  a  patch  of  thick  scrub  not  far  ahead 
which  it  would  be  difficult  for  the  horseman  on  the 
rise  to  break  through,  and  if  the  fugitive  could  suc- 
ceed in  mounting,  he  might  escape  while  his  pursuer 
rode  round;  but  Lansing  seemed  to  recognize  this. 
He  swept  down  from  the  ridge  furiously  and  rode  to 
cut  off  the  thief.  Grant  saw  him  come  up  with  the 
fellow,  with  his  quirt  swung  high,  but  the  figures  of 
men  and  horses  were  now  indistinct  against  the  shrub. 
There  was  a  blow  struck;  one  of  the  animals  reared, 
plunged  and  fell ;  the  other  went  on  and  vanished  into 
the  gloom  of  the  dwarf  trees. 


286  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Then  Grant,  without  remembering  how  he  got  up, 
found  himself  upon  his  feet  and  lurching  unsteadily 
toward  the  clump  of  brush.  When  he  reached  it, 
Lansing  was  standing  beside  his  trembling  horse, 
which  had  a  long  red  gash  down  its  shoulder.  His 
hands  were  stained  and  a  big  discolored  knife  lay 
near  his  feet.  There  was  nobody  else  about,  but  a 
beat  of  hoofs  came  back,  growing  fainter,  out  of  the 
gathering  dusk. 

George  looked  around  when  the  farmer  joined  him, 
and  then  pointed  to  the  wound  on  the  horse. 

"  I  think  it  was  meant  for  my  leg,"  he  said.  "  I 
hit  the  fellow  once  with  the  thick  end  of  the  quirt, 
but  he  jumped  straight  at  me.  The  horse  reared 
when  he  felt  the  knife  and  I  came  off  before  he  fell. 
When  I  got  up  again,  the  fellow  had  gone." 

Grant  felt  scarcely  capable  of  standing.  He  sat 
down  heavily  and  fumbled  for  his  pipe,  while  George 
turned  his  attention  to  the  horse  again. 

"  Though  it's  only  in  the  muscle,  the  cut  looks  deep," 
he  said  at  length.  "  I'd  better  lead  him  back  to  your 
place ;  it's  nearer  than  mine." 

"  I'd  rather  you  came  along;  I'm  a  bit  shaky." 

"  Of  course,"  said  George.  "  I  was  forgetting. 
Those  fellows  had  you  down.  Are  you  hurt?  " 

"  They  knocked  me  out  with  something  heavy  — 
my  whip,  I  guess  —  but  I'm  getting  over  it.  Cleaned 
out  my  pockets;  went  off  with  both  teams." 

George  nodded. 

•"  It's  pretty  bad;  quite  impossible  to  get  after  them. 
They'll  head  for  Montana  as  fast  as  they  can  ride." 

"  Did  you  see  any  of  them  clearly?  " 

"  One    fellow    looked    like    Langside,    though    I 


A  COUNTERSTROKE  287 

couldn't  swear  to  him;  but  I'd  know  the  man  who 
knifed  my  horse.  Remembered  that  would  be  de- 
sirable, in  case  he  escaped  me;  and  I  got  a  good  look 
at  him.  Now,  if  you  feel  able  shall  we  make  a  start? 
I'm  afraid  the  horse  is  too  lame  to  carry  you." 

He  picked  up  the  knife,  Grant  rose,  and  they  set 
off,  leading  the  horse,  which  moved  slowly  and  pain- 
fully. It  had  grown  dark  and  the  trail  was  rough, 
but  the  farmer  plodded  homeward,  stopping  a  few  mo- 
ments now  and  then.  The  path,  however,  grew 
smoother  when  they  had  left  the  sandy  ridges  behind, 
and  by  and  by  the  lights  of  the  homestead  commenced 
to  twinkle  on  the  vast  shadowy  plain.  Soon  after 
they  reached  it,  George  rode  away,  mounted  on  a 
fresh  horse,  in  search  of  Constable  Flett. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  CLIMAX 

GEORGE  was  tired  and  sleepy  when  he  reached 
the  settlement  early  in  the  morning,  and  found 
Flett  at  Hardie's  house.  It  transpired  from  their  con- 
versation that  there  had  been  a  disturbance  at  the 
Sachem  on  the  return  of  a  party  which  had  driven 
out  to  the  sale,  and  one  man,  who  accused  a  compan- 
ion of  depriving  him  of  a  bargain,  had  attacked  and 
badly  injured  him  with  a  decanter.  Flett,  being  sent 
for,  had  arrested  the  fellow,  and  afterward  called 
upon  the  clergyman  for  information  about  his  ante- 
cedents and  character.  He  listened  with  close  atten- 
tion while  George  told  his  tale;  and  then  examined 
the  knife  he  produced. 

"  This  is  about  the  limit !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You 
wouldn't  have  persuaded  me  that  the  thing  was  pos- 
sible when  I  was  first  sent  into  the  district.  It  isn't 
what  one  expects  in  the  wheat-belt,  and  it  certainly 
has  to  be  stopped." 

"  Of  course,"  said  George,  with  some  impatience. 
"  But  wouldn't  it  be  wiser  to  consider  the  ways  and 
means?  At  present  the  fellows  are  no  doubt  pushing 
on  for  the  frontier  with  two  valuable  teams  and  a 
wad  of  stolen  bills." 

Flett  smiled  at  him  indulgently. 

"  This  isn't  a  job  that  can  be  put  through  in  a  hurry. 
288 


THE  CLIMAX  289 

If  they're  heading  for  the  boundary  —  and  I  guess 
they  are  —  they'll  be  in  Dakota  or  Montana  long  be- 
fore any  of  the  boys  I'll  wire  to  could  come  up  with 
them.  Our  authority  doesn't  hold  on  American  soil." 

"  Is  that  to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,"  Flett  answered  dryly.  "  As  I  guess 
you  have  heard,  they  have  had  trouble  of  this  kind  in 
Alberta  for  a  while;  and  most  every  time  the  boys 
were  able  to  send  back  any  American  mavericks  and 
beef-cattle  that  were  run  into  Canada.  As  the  result 
of  it,  our  chiefs  at  Regina  are  pretty  good  friends  with 
the  sheriffs  and  deputies  on  the  other  side.  They're 
generally  willing  to  help  us  where  they  can." 

"  Then  you  shouldn't  have  much  difficulty  in  trail- 
ing your  men.  Suppose  a  fellow  turned  up  with  four 
exceptionally  good  horses  and  offered  them  to  an 
American  farmer  or  dealer,  wouldn't  it  arouse  suspi- 
cion?" 

"  It  might,"  said  Flett,  with  a  meaning  smile. 
"  But  the  thing's  not  so  simple  as  it  looks.  We  all 
know  that  Canadian  steers  and  horses  have  been  run 
off  and  disposed  of  across  the  frontier;  and  now  and 
then  a  few  from  that  side  have  disappeared  in  Can- 
ada. This  points  to  there  being  a  way  of  getting  rid 
of  them;  some  mean  white  on  a  lonely  holding  will 
take  them  at  half -value,  and  pass  them  along.  What 
we  have  to  do  is  to  send  a  man  over  quietly  to  investi- 
gate, and  get  the  sheriffs  and  deputies  to  keep  their 
eyes  open.  I'm  going  to  beg  the  Regina  people  to 
let  me  be  that  man." 

''  You  may  as  well  understand  that  it  isn't  the  re- 
turn of  the  horses  Grant  wants  so  much  as  the  convic- 
tion of  the  men  who  waylaid  him." 


290  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Then,"  said  Flett,  pointedly,  "  he  must  be  mighty 
mad." 

Hardie  joined  in  George's  laugh;  but  the  constable 
went  on: 

"  I  believe  we're  going  to  get  them ;  but  it  will  take 
time  —  all  summer,  perhaps.  I've  known  our  boys 
lay  hands  on  a  man  they  wanted,  eighteen  months 
afterward." 

"  In  one  way,  I  don't  think  that's  much  to  their 
credit,"  the  clergyman  remarked. 

Taking  up  the  knife  George  had  handed  him, 
Flett  pointed  to  some  initials  scratched  on  the  bone 
haft. 

"  Kind  of  foolish  thing  for  the  fellow  to  put  his 
name  on  his  tools ;  but  I  don't  know  anybody  those  let- 
ters might  stand  for.  Now  you  describe  him  as 
clearly  as  you  can,  while  I  put  it  down." 

George  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  added :  '  There 
were  two  more  —  one  of  them  looked  like  Langside 
—  and  I  believe  a  fourth  man,  though  I  may  be  mis- 
taken in  this.  They  were  moving  about  pretty  rap- 
idly and  the  light  was  bad." 

Flett  got  up. 

"  I'll  have  word  sent  along  to  Regina,  and  then  try 
to  locate  their  trail  until  instructions  come.  I  want 
to  get  about  it  right  away,  but  there's  this  blamed  fel- 
low who  knocked  out  his  partner  at  the  Sachem,  and 
it  will  take  me  most  of  a  day's  ride  before  I  can  hand 
him  on  to  Davies.  It's  a  charge  that  nobody's  going 
to  worry  about,  and  it's  a  pity  he  couldn't  have  es- 
caped. Still,  that's  the  kind  of  thing  that  can't  hap- 
pen too  often." 


THE  CLIMAX  291 

He  went  out  and  George  turned  to  Hardie. 

"  How  does  the  matter  strike  you?  " 

"  I've  an  idea  that  Flett  was  right  in  saying  it  was 
the  limit.  There  was  a  certain  romance  about  these 
disturbances  when  they  began;  they  were  a  novelty  in 
this  part  of  Canada.  People  took  them  lightly,  glad 
of  something  amusing  or  exciting  to  talk  about.  It 
was  through  popular  indifference  that  the  gang  first 
gained  a  footing,  but  by  degrees  it  became  evident 
that  they  couldn't  be  dislodged  without  a  vigorous  ef- 
fort. People  shrank  from  making  it;  and,  with 
Beamish  backing  them,  the  fellows  got  steadily  bolder 
and  better  organized.  All  the  time,  however,  they 
were  really  at  the  mercy  of  the  general  body  of  or- 
derly citizens.  Now  they  have  gone  too  far ;  this  last 
affair  can't  be  tolerated.  Instead  of  apathy,  there'll 
be  an  outbreak  of  indignation ;  and  I  expect  the  people 
who  might  have  stopped  the  thing  at  the  beginning 
will  denounce  the  police." 

George  nodded. 

"  That's  my  idea.     What's  our  part  ?  " 

"  I  think  it's  to  assist  in  the  reaction.  Your 
story's  a  striking  one.  We  had  better  get  it  into  a 
newspaper  as  soon  as  possible.  I  suppose  it  would  be 
correct  to  say  that  Grant  was  cruelly  beaten  ?  " 

"  His  face  is  blue  from  jaw  to  temple.  They 
knocked  him  nearly  senseless  with  the  butt  of  a  whip, 
while  he  was  lying,  helpless,  on  the  ground." 

"  And  your  horse  was  badly  wounded  ?  " 

"  I  wish  it  weren't  true ;  there's  a  gash  about  eight 
inches  long.  If  it  will  assist  the  cause,  you  can  say 
the  stab  was  meant  for  me." 


292  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Well,"  said  Hardie,  "  I  think  it  will  make  a  mov- 
ing tale.  I'm  afraid,  however,  I'll  have  to  lay  some 
stress  upon  the  single-handed  rescue." 

George  looked  dubious. 

"  I'd  rather  you  left  that  out." 

"  We  must  impress  the  matter  on  people's  thoughts, 
make  it  command  attention;  a  little  diplomacy  is  al- 
lowable now  and  then,"  said  Hardie,  smiling. 
"  Since  you  don't  mind  getting  yourself  into  trouble, 
I  don't  see  why  you  should  object  to  being  held  up  to 
admiration,  and  it's  in  an  excellent  cause.  Now, 
however,  I'll  order  breakfast  for  you,  and  then  you 
had  better  get  some  sleep." 

During  the  afternoon,  George  set  off  for  home, 
and  he  was  plowing  for  the  summer  fallow  a  week 
later  when  Flora  Grant  rode  up  to  him. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  got  your  mail  and  have  seen 
what  the  Sentinel  says  about  you  ?  "  she  asked  mis- 
chievously. 

George  looked  uncomfortable,  but  he.  laughed. 

"  Yes,"  he  confessed.  "  It  seemed  to  afford  Ed- 
gar some  amusement." 

"  Who's  responsible  for  that  flattering  column  ?  It 
doesn't  read  like  the  work  of  the  regular  staff." 

"  I'm  afraid  that  I  am,  to  some  extent,  though  Har- 
die's  the  actual  culprit.  The  fact  is,  he  thought  the 
course  was  necessary." 

"  Well,  I  suspected  something  of  the  kind ;  so  did 
my  father.  It  was  a  wise  move,  and  I  think  it  will 
have  its  effect." 

George  made  no  comment  and  she  sat  silent  a  mo- 
ment or  two  while  he  watched  her  with  appreciation. 
She  was  well-mounted  on  a  beautiful,  carefully- 


THE  CLIMAX  293 

groomed  horse;  the  simple  skirt  and  bodice  of  pale 
gray  emphasized  the  pure  tinting  of  her  face  and 
hands  and  the  warm  glow  of  her  hair,  in  which  the 
fierce  sunshine  forced  up  strong  coppery  gleams. 
Her  lips  formed  a  patch  of  crimson,  there  was  a  red 
band  on  her  wide  Stetson  hat,  and  her  eyes  shone  a 
deep  blue  as  she  looked  down  at  George,  who  stood 
in  the  sandy  furrow  leaning  against  the  heavy  plow. 
He  was  dressed  in  old  overalls  that  had  faded  with 
dust  and  sun  to  the  indefinite  color  of  the  soil,  but 
they  displayed  the  fine  lines  of  a  firmly  knit  and  mus- 
cular figure.  His  face  was  deeply  bronzed,  but  a 
glow  of  sanguine  red  shone  through  its  duskier  col- 
oring. Behind  them  both  ran  a  broad  sweep  of  stub- 
ble, steeped  in  strong  ochre,  relieved  by  brighter 
lemon  hues  where  the  light  blazed  on  it. 

"  Though  I  couldn't  resist  the  temptation  to  tease 
you,  I  quite  agree  with  the  Sentinel,"  she  resumed. 
"  It  really  was  a  very  gallant  rescue,  and  I  suppose 
you  know  I  recognize  my  debt  to  you.  I  was  a  little 
too  startled  to  speak  about  it  when  you  brought  my 
father  home,  and  you  went  away  so  fast." 

"  The  fellows  were  afraid  of  being  identified;  they 
bolted  as  soon  as  they  saw  me." 

"One  didn't,"  Flora  pointed  out.  "A  knife- 
thrust,  like  the  one  you  avoided,  or  a  pistol-shot  would 
have  obviated  any  risk  they  ran.  But  of  course  you 
hate  to  be  thanked." 

"  No,"  George  replied  impulsively;  "not  by  you." 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said  with  an  amused  air,  "  why 
you  should  make  an  exception  of  me?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  lessens  my  sense  of  obligation.  I  feel 
I've  done  some  little  thing  to  pay  you  back." 


294  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I'm  not  sure  that  was  very  happily  expressed.  Is 
it  painful  to  feel  that  you  owe  anything  to  your  neigh- 
bors?" 

George  flushed. 

"  That  wasn't  what  I  meant.  Do  you  think  it's 
quite  fair  to  lay  traps  for  me,  when  you  can  count 
on  my  falling  into  them  ?  "  He  turned  and  pointed  to 
the  great  stretch  of  grain  that  clothed  the  soil  with 
vivid  green.  "  Look  at  your  work.  Last  fall,  all 
that  plowing  was  strewn  with  a  wrecked  and  mangled 
crop;  now  it's  sown  with  wheat  that  will  stand  the 
drought.  I  was  feeling  nearly  desperate,  wondering 
how  I  was  to  master  the  sandy  waste,  when  you  came 
to  the  rescue  and  my  troubles  melted  like  the  dust  in 
summer  rain.  They  couldn't  stand  before  you;  you 
banished  them." 

She  looked  at  him  rather  curiously,  and,  George 
thought,  with  some  cause,  for  he  was  a  little  aston- 
ished at  his  outbreak.  This  was  not  the  kind  of 
language  that  was  most  natural  to  him. 

"  I  wonder,"  she*  said,  "  why  you  should  take  so 
much  for  granted  —  I  mean  in  holding  me  account- 
able?" 

"  It's  obvious,"  George  declared.  "  I  understand 
your  father;  he's  a  very  generous  friend,  but  the  idea 
of  sending  me  the  seed  didn't  occur  to  him  in  the  first 
place;  though  I  haven't  the  least  doubt  that  he  was 
glad  to  act  on  it." 

"  Ah ! "  said  Flora,  "  it  looks  as  if  you  had  been 
acquiring  some  penetration;  you  were  not  so  explicit 
the  last  time  you  insisted  on  thanking  me.  Who  can 
have  been  teaching  you  ?  It  seems,  however,  that  I'm 
still  incomprehensible." 


THE  CLIMAX  295 

George  considered.  It  would  be  undesirable  to  ex- 
plain that  his  enlightenment  had  come  from  Edgar, 
and  he  wanted  to  express  what  he  felt. 

"  No,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  her  last  remark;  "  not 
altogether;  but  I've  sometimes  felt  that  there's  a  bar- 
rier of  reserve  in  you,  beyond  which  it's  hard  to  get." 

"  Do  you  think  it  would  be  worth  while  to  make 
the  attempt  ?  Suppose  you  succeeded  and  found  there 
was  nothing  on  the  other  side?  " 

He  made  a  sign  of  negation,  and  she  watched  him 
with  some  interest;  the  man  was  trying  to  thrash  out 
his  ideas. 

"  That  couldn't  happen,"  he  declared  gravely. 
"  Somehow  you  make  one  feel  there  is  much  in  you 
that  wants  discovery,  but  that  one  will  learn  it  by  and 
by.  After  all,  it's  only  the  shallow  people  you  never 
really  get  to  know." 

"  It  would  seem  an  easy  task,  on  the  face  of  it." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  isn't.  They  have  a  way 
of  enveloping  themselves  in  an  air  of  importance  and 
mystery,  and  when  they  don't  do  so,  they're  casual 
and  inconsequent.  One  likes  people  with,  so  to  speak, 
some  continuity  of  character.  By  degrees  one  gets  to 
know  how  they'll  act  and  it  gives  one  a  sense  of  re- 
liance." He  paused  and  added,  diffidently :  "  Any- 
thing you  did  would  be  wise  and  generous." 

"  By  degrees  ?  "  smiled  Flora.  "  So  it's  slowly, 
by  patient  sapping,  the  barriers  go  down !  One  could 
imagine  that  such  things  might  be  violently  stormed. 
But  you're  not  rash,  are  you,  or  often  in  a  hurry? 
However,  it's  time  I  was  getting  home." 

She  waved  her  hand  and  rode  away,  and  George, 
getting  into  the  saddle,  started  his  team,  and  thought 


296  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

about  her  while  he  listened  to  the  crackling  of  the 
stubble  going  down  beneath  the  hoofs,  and  the  soft 
thud  of  thrown-back  soil  as  the  lengthening  rows  of 
clods  broke  away  from  the  gleaming  shares.  What 
she  might  have  meant  by  her  last  remark  he  could  not 
tell,  though  so  far  as  it  concerned  him,  he  was  ready 
to  admit  that  he  was  addicted  to  steady  plodding. 
Then  his  thoughts  took  a  wider  range,  and  he  began 
to  make  comparisons.  Flora  was  not  characterized 
by  Sylvia's  fastidious  refinement;  she  was  more  virile 
and  yet  more  reposeful.  Sylvia's  activities  spread 
bustle  around  her;  she  required  much  assistance  and 
everybody  in  her  neighborhood  was  usually  impressed 
into  her  service,  though  their  combined  efforts  often 
led  to  nothing.  Flora's  work  was  done  silently;  the 
results  were  most  apparent. 

Still,  the  charm  Sylvia  exerted  was  always  obvious ; 
a  thing  to  rejoice  in  and  be  thankful  for.  Flora  had 
not  the  same  effect  on  one,  though  he  suspected  there 
was  a  depth  of  tenderness  in  her,  behind  the  barrier. 
It  struck  him  as  a  pity  that  she  showed  no  signs  of  in- 
terest in  West,  who  of  late  seemed  to  have  been  at- 
tracted by  the  pretty  daughter  of  a  storekeeper  at  the 
settlement;  but,  after  all,  the  lad  was  hardly  old  or 
serious  enough  for  Flora.  There  was,  however,  no- 
body else  in  the  district  who  was  nearly  good  enough 
for  her;  and  George  felt  glad  that  she  was  reserved 
and  critical.  It  would  be  disagreeable  to  contemplate 
her  yielding  to  any  suitor  unless  he  were  a  man  of  ex- 
ceptional merit. 

Then  he  laughed  and  called  to  his  horses.  He  was 
thinking  about  matters  that  did  not  concern  him;  his 
work  was  to  drive  the  long  furrow  for  Sylvia's  benefit, 


THE  CLIMAX  297 

and  he  found  pleasure  in  it.  Bright  sunshine  smote 
the  burnished  clods;  scattered,  white-edged  clouds 
drove  across  the  sky  of  dazzling  blue,  flinging  down 
cool  gray  shadows  that  sped  athwart  the  stubble; 
young  wheat,  wavy  lines  of  bluff,  and  wide-spread 
prairie  were  steeped  in  glowing  color.  The  man  re- 
joiced in  the  rush  of  the  breeze;  the  play  of  straining 
muscles  swelling  and  sinking  on  the  bodies  of  the 
team  before  him  was  pleasant  to  watch;  he  felt  at 
home  in  the  sun  and  wind,  which,  tempered  as  they 
often  were  by  gentle  rain,  were  staunchly  assisting 
him.  By  and  by,  all  the  foreground  of  the  picture 
he  gazed  upon  would  be  covered  with  the  coppery  ears 
of  wheat.  He  had  once  shrunk  from  returning  to 
Canada;  but  now,  through  all  the  stress  of  cold  and 
heat,  he  was  growing  fond  of  the  new  land.  What 
was  more,  he  felt  the  power  to  work  at  such  a  task  as 
he  was  now  engaged  in  to  be  a  privilege. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

A   SIGN   FROM    FLETT 

OUMMER  drew  on  with  swift  strides.  Crimson 
^  flowers  flecked  the  prairie  grass,  the  wild  barley 
waved  its  bristling  ears  along  the  trails,  saskatoons 
glowed  red  in  the  shadows  of  each  bluff.  Day  by  day 
swift-moving  clouds  cast  flitting  shadows  across  the 
sun-scorched  plain,  but  though  they  shed  no  moisture 
the  wheat  stood  nearly  waist-high  upon  the  Marston 
farm.  The  sand  that  whirled  about  it  did  the  strong 
stalks  no  harm. 

Earlier  in  the  season  there  had  been  drenching 
thunder  showers,  and  beyond  the  grain  the  flax  spread 
in  sheets  of  delicate  blue  that  broke  off  on  the  verge 
of  the  brown-headed  timothy.  Still  farther  back  lay 
the  green  of  alsike  and  alfalfa,  for  the  band  of  red 
and  white  cattle  that  roamed  about  the  bluffs;  but 
while  the  fodder  crop  was  bountiful  George  had  de- 
cided to  supplement  it  with  the  natural  prairie  hay. 
There  was  no  pause  in  his  exertions;  task  followed 
task  in  swift  succession.  Rising  in  the  sharp  cold  of 
the  dawn,  he  toiled  assiduously  until  the  sunset  splen- 
dors died  out  in  paling  green  and  crimson  on  the  far 
rim  of  the  plain. 

The  early  summer  was  marked  by  signs  of  ap- 
proaching change  in  Sage  Butte  affairs.  There  were 

298 


A  SIGN  FROM  FLETT  299 

still  a  few  disturbances  and  Hardie  had  troubles  to 
face,  but  he  and  his  supporters  noticed  that  the  indif- 
ference with  which  they  had  been  regarded  was  giv- 
ing place  to  sympathy.  When  Grant  first  visited  the 
settlement  after  his  misadventure,  he  was  received 
with  expressions  of  indignant  commiseration,  and  he 
afterward  told  Flora  dryly  that  he  was  astonished 
at  the  number  of  his  friends.  Mrs.  Nelson  and  a  few 
of  the  stalwarts  pressed  Hardie  to  make  new  and  more 
vigorous  efforts  toward  the  expulsion  of  the  offenders, 
but  the  clergyman  refrained.  Things  were  going  as 
he  wished ;  it  was  scarcely  wise  to  expose  such  a  ten- 
der thing  as  half- formed  opinion  to  a  severe  test,  and 
the  failure  that  might  follow  a  premature  attempt 
could  hardly  be  recovered  from.  It  seemed  better  to 
wait  until  Grant's  assailants  should  be  arrested,  and  the 
story  of  their  doings  elicited  in  court,  to  rouse  general 
indignation,  and  he  thought  this  would  happen.  Flett 
had  disappeared  some  weeks  ago  and  nothing  had 
been  heard  of  him,  but  Hardie  believed  his  chiefs  had 
sent  him  out  on  the  robbers'  trail.  The  constable 
combined  sound  sense  with  dogged  pertinacity,  and 
these  were  serviceable  qualities. 

It  was  a  hot  afternoon  when  George  brought  home 
his  last  load  of  wild  sloo  hay,  wralking  beside  his  team, 
while  Flora  curbed  her  reckless  horse  a  few  yards  off. 
She  had  ridden  over  with  her  father,  and  finding  that 
George  had  not  returned,  had  gone  on  to  prevent  a 
hired  man  from  being  sent  for  him.  They  had  met 
each  other  frequently  of  late,  and  George  was  sensible 
of  an  increasing  pleasure  in  the  girl's  society;  though 
what  Flora  felt  did  not  appear.  Behind  them  the 
jolting  wagon  strained  beneath  its  high-piled  load  that 


300  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

diffused  an  odor  of  peppermint;  in  front  the  shadow 
of  a  bluff  lay  cool  upon  the  sun-scorchea  prairie. 

"  I  suppose  you  heard  that  Baxter  lost  a  steer  last 
week,"  she  said.  "  Most  likely,  it  was  killed ;  but, 
though  the  police  searched  the  reservation,  there  was 
no  trace  of  the  hide.  We  have  had  a  little  quietness, 
but  I'm  not  convinced  that  our  troubles  won't  break 
out  again.  Nobody  seems  to  have  heard  anything  of 
Flett." 

"  He's  no  doubt  busy  somewhere." 

"  I'm  inclined  to  believe  so,  and,  in  a  way,  his 
silence  is  reassuring.  Flett  can  work  without  making 
a  disturbance,  and  that  is  in  his  favor.  But  what  has 
become  of  Mr.  West?  We  haven't  seen  much  of  him 
of  late." 

"  He  has  fallen  into  a  habit  of  riding  over  to  the 
settlement  in  his  spare  time,  which  isn't  plentiful." 

"  Ah !  "  exclaimed  Flora ;  "  that  agrees  with  some 
suspicions  of  mine.  Don't  you  feel  a  certain  amount 
of  responsibility?  " 

"  I  do,"  George  admitted.  "  Still,  he's  rather  head- 
strong, and  he  hasn't  told  me  why  he  goes  to  the 
Butte ;  though  the  girl's  father  gave  me  a  hint.  I  like 
Taunton  —  he's  perfectly  straightforward  —  and  I'd 
almost  made  up  my  mind  to  ask  your  opinion  about 
the  matter,  but  I  was  diffident." 

"  I'll  give  it  to  you  without  reserve  —  there's  no 
ground  for  uneasiness  on  West's  account;  he  might 
fall  into  much  worse  hands.  If  Helen  Taunton  has 
any  influence  over  him,  it  will  be  wisely  used.  Be- 
sides, she  has  been  well  educated;  she  spent  a  few 
years  in  Montreal." 


A  SIGN  FROM  FLETT  301 

"  She  has  a  nice  face ;  in  fact,  she's  decidedly 
pretty." 

"  And  that  would  cover  a  multitude  of  shortcom- 
ings?" 

"  Well,"  said  George,  thoughtfully,  "  mere  physical 
beauty  is  something  to  be  thankful  for;  though  I'm  not 
sure  that  beauty  can  be,  so  to  speak,  altogether  physi- 
cal. When  I  said  the  girl  had  a  nice  face,  I  meant 
that  its  expression  suggested  a  wholesome  character." 

"  You  seem  to  have  been  cultivating  your  powers 
of  observation,"  Flora  told  him.  "  But  I'm  more  dis- 
posed to  consider  the  matter  from  Helen's  point  of 
view.  As  it  happens,  she's  a  friend  of  mine  and  I've 
reasons  for  believing  that  your  partner's  readily  sus- 
ceptible and  inclined  to  be  fickle.  Of  course,  I'm  not 
jealous." 

George  laughed. 

"  He's  too  venturesome  now  and  then,  but  he  has 
been  a  little  spoiled.  I've  an  idea  that  this  affair  is 
likely  to  be  permanent.  He  has  shown  a  keen  interest 
in  the  price  of  land  and  the  finances  of  farming,  which 
struck  me  as  having  its  meaning." 

They  had  now  nearly  reached  the  bluff  and  a  horse- 
man in  khaki  uniform  rode  out  of  it  to  meet  them. 

"  I've  been  over  to  your  place,"  he  said  to  George, 
when  he  had  dismounted.  "  I  was  sent  to  show  you 
a  photograph  and  ask  if  you  can  recognize  anybody  in 
it?" 

He  untied  a  packet  and  George  studied  the  picture 
handed  him.  It  showed  the  rutted  main  street  of  a 
little  western  town,  with  the  sunlight  on  a  row  of 
wooden  buildings.  In  the  distance  a  band  of  cattle 


302  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

were  being  driven  forward  by  two  mounted  men ; 
nearer  at  hand  a  few  wagons  stood  outside  a  livery 
stable;  and  in  the  foreground  three  or  four  figures 
occupied  the  veranda  of  a  frame  hotel.  The  ease  of 
their  attitudes  suggested  that  they  did  not  know  they 
were  being  photographed,  and  their  faces  were  dis- 
tinct. George  looked  triumphantly  excited  and  un- 
hesitatingly laid  a  finger  on  one  face. 

"  This  is  the  man  that  drove  off  Mr.  Grant's  Per- 
cheron  and  stabbed  my  horse." 

The  trooper  produced  a  thin  piece  of  card  and  a 
small  reading-glass. 

"  Take  another  look  through  this ;  it  came  along 
with  the  photograph.  Now,  would  you  be  willing  to 
swear  to  him  ?  " 

"  I'll  be  glad  to  do  so,  if  I  have  the  chance.  Shall 
I  put  a  mark  against  the  fellow  ?  " 

"  Not  on  that !  "  The  trooper  handed  George  the 
card,  which  proved  to  be  a  carefully  drawn  key-plan 
of  the  photograph,  with  the  figures  outlined.  :<  You 
can  mark  this  one." 

George  did  as  he  was  told,  and  then  handed  the 
photograph  to  Flora. 

"  How  did  your  people  get  it  ? "  he  asked  the 
trooper. 

"  I  can't  say;  they  don't  go  into  explanations." 

"  But  what  do  you  think  ?  Did  Flett  take  the  pho- 
tograph ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  heard  him  tell  the  sergeant  he  knew 
nothing  about  a  camera.  He  may  have  got  somebody 
to  take  it  or  may  have  bought  the  thing." 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  is  ?  " 

"  I   only   know   he   got   special   orders   after   Mr. 


A  SIGN  FROM  FLETT  303 

Grant  was  robbed.  It's  my  idea  he  was  somewhere 
around  when  the  photograph  was  taken." 

"I  wonder  where  it  was  taken?  In  Alberta,  per- 
haps, though  I'm  inclined  to  think  it  was  on  the  other 
side  of  the  frontier." 

"  That  is  my  opinion,"  said  Flora.  "  There's  not 
a  great  difference  between  us  and  our  neighbors,  but 
the  dress  of  the  mounted  men  and  the  style  of  the 
stores  are  somehow  American.  I'd  say  Montana,  or 
perhaps  Dakota." 

"  Montana,"  said  the  trooper.  "  The  big  bunch  of 
cattle  seems  to  fix  it." 

"  Then  you  think  Flett  is  over  there  ? "  asked 
George.  "  I'm  interested,  so  is  Miss  Grant,  and  you 
needn't  be  afraid  of  either  of  us  spreading  what  you 
say." 

"  It's  my  notion  that  Flett  has  spotted  his  men,  but 
I  guess  he's  now  watching  out  near  the  boundary  in 
Canada.  These  rustler  fellows  can't  do  all  their 
business  on  one  side;  they'll  have  to  cross  now  and 
then.  Flett's  in  touch  with  some  of  the  American 
sheriffs,  who'll  give  him  the  tip,  and  the  first  time  the 
fellows  slip  over  the  frontier  he'll  get  them.  That 
would  suit  everybody  better  and  save  a  blamed  lot  of 
formalities." 

Flora  nodded. 

"It  strikes  me  as  very  likely;  and  Flett's  perhaps 
the  best  man  you  could  have  sent.  But  have  you 
shown  the  photograph  to  my  father?  " 

"  I  did  that  before  I  left  the  homestead.  There's 
nobody  in  the  picture  like  the  fellow  who  drove  with 
Mr.  Grant,  and  he  tells  me  he  saw  nobody  else.  Now 
I  must  be  getting  on." 


304  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

He  rode  away,  and  Flora  reverted  to  the  topic  she 
and  George  had  been  discussing. 

"  So  you  believe  Mr.  West  is  thinking  of  living 
here  altogether!  I  suppose  he  would  be  able  to  take 
a  farm  of  moderate  size?  " 

"  It  wouldn't  be  very  large ;  he  can't  have  much 
money,  but  his  people  would  help  him  to  make  a  start 
if  they  were  satisfied.  That  means  they  would  con- 
sult me." 

Flora  smiled. 

"  And  you  feel  you  would  be  in  a  difficult  position, 
if  you  were  asked  whether  it  would  be  wise  to  let  him 
marry  a  prairie  girl?  Have  you  formed  any  decision 
about  the  matter?  " 

She  spoke  in  an  indifferent  tone,  but  George  im- 
agined that  she  was  interested. 

"  I  can't  see  why  he  shouldn't  do  so." 

"  Think  a  little.  West  has  been  what  you  call  well 
brought  up,  he's  fastidious,  and  I  haven't  found  Eng- 
lish people  free  from  social  prejudices.  Could  you, 
as  his  friend,  contemplate  his  marrying  the  daughter 
of  a  storekeeper  in  a  rather  primitive  western  town? 
Taunton,  of  course,  is  not  a  polished  man." 

"  I  don't  think  that  counts ;  he's  a  very  good  type 
in  spite  of  it.  The  girl's  pretty,  she  has  excellent 
manners,  and  she  strikes  me  as  having  sense  —  and  in 
some  respects  Edgar  has  very  little.  I'll  admit  that 
at  one  time  I  might  not  have  approved  of  the  idea, 
but  I  believe  I've  got  rid  of  one  or  two  foolish  opin- 
ions that  I  brought  out  with  me.  If  Miss  Taunton 
is  what  she  appears  to  be,  he's  lucky  in  getting  her. 
Don't  you  think  so?" 

He  had  spoken  with  a  little  warmth,  though,  as 


A  SIGN  FROM  FLETT  305 

Flora  knew,  he  was  seldom  emphatic;  and  a  rather 
curious  expression  crept  into  her  face.  He  did  not 
quite  understand  it,  but  he  thought  she  was  pleased 
for  some  reason  or  other! 

"  Oh,"  she  said  lightly,  "  I  have  told  you  my  opin- 
ion." 

Nothing  further  was  said  about  the  subject,  but 
George  walked  beside  his  team  in  a  state  of  calm  con- 
tent. His  companion  was  unusually  gracious;  she 
made  a  picture  that  was  pleasant  to  watch  as  she  sat, 
finely  poised,  on  the  big  horse,  with  the  strong  sun- 
light on  her  face.  Her  voice  was  attractive,  too;  it 
reached  him,  clear  and  musical,  through  the  thud  of 
hoofs  and  the  creak  of  slowly-turning  wheels,  for  he 
made  no  attempt  to  hurry  his  team. 

When  they  reached  the  homestead,  the  conversa- 
tion centered  on  the  constable's  visit;  and  when  the 
Grants  left,  Edgar  stood  outside  with  George,  watch- 
ing the  slender  mounted  figure  grow  smaller  beside  the 
jolting  buggy. 

"  George,"  he  said,  "  I've  met  very  few  girls  who 
could  compare  with  Flora  Grant,  taking  her  all 
round." 

"  That's  correct,"  George  told  him.  "  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  I'm  doubtful  whether  you  have  met  any 
who  would  bear  the  comparison.  It  was  the  sillier 
ones  who  made  a  fuss  over  you." 

"  I  know  of  one,"  Edgar  resumed.  "  As  it  hap- 
pens, she's  in  Canada." 

"  I'd  a  suspicion  of  something  of  the  kind,"  George 
said  dryly. 

Edgar  made  no  answer,  but  presently  he  changed 
the  subject. 


306  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  What's  the  least  one  could  take  up  a  farm  here 
with,  and  have  a  fair  chance  of  success?  " 

"  One  understands  it  has  been  done  with  practically 
nothing  on  preempted  land,  though  I'm  rather  dubi- 
ous. In  jour  case,  I'd  fix  five  thousand  dollars  as  the 
minimum;  more  would  be  decidedly  better." 

"  Yes,"  said  Edgar  thoughtfully ;  "  that's  about  my 
idea;  and  I  suppose  it  could  be  raised,  though  my 
share  of  what  was  left  us  has  nearly  all  been  spent  in 
cramming  me  with  knowledge  I've  no  great  use  for. 
Stephen,  however,  has  done  pretty  well,  and  I  think 
he  always  realized  that  it  would  be  his  privilege  to 
give  me  a  lift ;  I've  no  doubt  he'll  write  to  you  as  soon 
as  I  mention  the  matter,  and  your  answer  will  have  its 
effect."  He  looked  at  George  with  anxious  eyes.  "  I 
venture  to  think  you'll  strain  a  point  to  say  what  you 
can  in  my  favor  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  I'll  ride  over  to  the  Butte  and 
have  supper  with  Taunton,  as  soon  as  I  can  find  the 
time." 

"  Thanks,"  responded  Edgar  gratefully ;  "  you 
won't  have  any  doubts  after  that."  Then  he  broke 
into  laughter.  "  You'll  excuse  me,  but  it's  really 
funny,  George." 

"  I  don't  see  the  joke,"  George  said  shortly. 

Edgar  tried  to  look  serious,  and  failed. 

"  I  can  imagine  your  trying  to  weigh  up  Helen ; 
starting  a  subtle  conversation  to  elucidate  her  charac- 
ter, and  showing  what  you  were  after  and  your  pro- 
found ignorance  with  every  word ;  though  you  mustn't 
suppose  I'd  be  afraid  of  submitting  her  to  the  severest 
test.  Why,  you  wouldn't  even  know  when  a  girl  was 
in  love  with  you,  unless  she  told  you  so.  Perhaps  it's 


A  SIGN  FROM  FLETT  307 

some  excuse  that  your  mind's  fixed  on  one  woman  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  the  rest,  though  one  could  im- 
agine that,  as  you  think  of  her,  she's  as  unreal  and  as 
far  removed  from  anything  made  of  flesh  and  blood 
as  a  saint  in  a  picture.  After  all,  I  dare  say  it's  a 
very  proper  feeling." 

George  left  him,  half  amused  and  half  disturbed. 
He  did  not  resent  Edgar's  freedom  of  speech,  but  the 
latter  had  a  way  of  mixing  hints  that  were  not  alto- 
gether foolish  with  his  badinage,  and  his  comrade  was 
inclined  to  wonder  what  he  had  meant  by  one  sug- 
gestive remark.  It  troubled  him  as  he  strolled  along 
the  edge  of  the  tall  green  wheat,  but  he  comforted 
himself  with  the  thought  that,  after  all,  Edgar's  con- 
versation was  often  unworthy  of  serious  considera- 
tion. 

A  week  later  George  rode  over  to  the  store  at  the 
settlement,  feeling  a  little  diffident,  because  he  had 
undertaken  the  visit  only  from  a  sense  of  duty.  He 
was  cordially  received,  and  was  presently  taken  in  to 
supper,  which  was  served  in  a  pretty  room  and  pre- 
sided over  by  a  very  attractive  girl.  She  had  a  pleas- 
ant voice  and  a  quiet  face;  though  he  thought  she 
must  have  guessed  his  errand,  she  treated  him  with  a 
composure  that  set  him  at  his  ease.  Indeed,  she  was 
by  no  means  the  kind  of  girl  he  had  expected  Edgar 
to  choose;  but  this  was  in  her  favor.  George  could 
find  no  fault  in  her. 

Shortly  after  the  meal  was  finished  his  host  was 
called  away,  and  the  girl  looked  up  at  George  with  a 
flush  of  color  creeping,  most  becomingly,  into  her  face. 

"  Edgar  told  me  I  needn't  be  afraid  of  you,"  she 
said. 


308  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

George  smiled. 

"  I  can  understand  his  confidence,  though  it  had  a 
better  foundation  than  my  good-nature.  I  wonder 
whether  I  might  venture  to  say  that  he  has  shown  re- 
markably good  sense  ?  " 

"  I'm  glad  you  don't  think  he  has  been  very  fool- 
ish," replied  the  girl,  and  it  was  obvious  to  George 
that  she  understood  the  situation. 

He  made  her  a  little  grave  bow. 

"  What  I've  said,  I'm  ready  to  stick  to.  I'm  a 
friend  of  Edgar's,  and  that  carried  an  obligation." 

"  Yes,"  she  assented,  "  but  it  was  because  you  are 
a  friend  of  his  and,  in  a  way,  represent  his  people  in 
England,  that  I  was  a  little  uneasy." 

Her  speech  implied  a  good  deal  and  George  ad- 
mired her  candor. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  you 
must  never  feel  anything  of  the  kind  again.  But  I 
think  you  should  have  known  it  was  quite  unneces- 
sary." 

She  gave  him  a  grateful  glance  and  soon  afterward 
her  father  came  in. 

"  Guess  we'll  take  a  smoke  in  the  back  office,"  he 
said  to  George. 

George  followed  him,  and  thought  he  understood 
why  he  was  led  into  the  little  untidy  room  strewn 
with  packets  of  goods,  though  his  host  had  a  fine  com- 
modious house.  Taunton  would  not  attempt  to  dis- 
sociate himself  from  his  profession;  he  meant  to  be 
taken  for  what  he  was,  but  he  knew  his  value.  He 
was  a  gaunt,  elderly  man:  as  far  as  his  general  ap- 
pearance went,  a  typical  inhabitant  of  a  remote  and 
half -developed  western  town,  though  there  was  a  hint 


A  SIGN  FROM  FLETT  309 

of  authority  in  his  face.     Giving  George  an  excellent 
cigar,  he  pointed  to  a  chair. 

"  Now,"  he  began,  "  we  must  have  a  talk.  When 
your  partner  first  came  hanging  round  my  store,  buy- 
ing things  he  didn't  want,  I  was  kind  of  short  with 
him.  Helen  helps  me  now  and  then  with  the  books, 
and  he  seemed  to  know  when  she  came  in." 

"  I  noticed  he  came  home  in  a  rather  bad  temper 
once  or  twice,"  George  said  with  a  laugh.  "  I  used  to 
wonder,  when  he  produced  sardine  cans  at  supper, 
but  after  a  while  I  began  to  understand." 

"  Well,"  continued  Taunton,  "  I  didn't  intend  to 
have  any  blamed  Percy  trying  to  turn  my  girl's  head, 
until  I  knew  what  he  meant.  I'd  nobody  to  talk  it 
over  with  —  I  lost  her  mother  long  ago  —  so  I  kind 
of  froze  him  out,  until  one  day  he  came  dawdling  in 
and  asked  if  he  might  take  Helen  to  Jim  Haxton's 
dance. 

'  Does  she  know  you  have  come  to  me  about  it  ? ' 
I  said. 

"  '  Can't  say,'  he  told  me  coolly,  with  a  cigarette 
hanging  out  of  his  month.  '  I  haven't  mentioned  the 
matter  yet ;  I  thought  I'd  ask  you  first.' 

"'S'pose  I  object?'  I  said. 

"  '  Then,'  he  allowed  quite  tranquil,  '  the  thing  will 
have  to  be  considered.  There's  not  the  slightest  rea- 
son why  you  should  object.' 

"  I'd  a  notion  I  could  agree  with  him  —  I  liked  the 
way  he  talked  —  and  I  told  him  Helen  could  go,  but 
the  next  time  he  called  he  was  to  walk  right  into  the 
office  instead  of  hanging  round  the  counter.  I  asked 
him  what  he'd  done  with  all  the  canned  truck  he'd 
bought,  and  he  said  he  was  inclined  to  think  his  part- 


310  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

ner  had  eaten  most  of  it.  Since  then  he's  been  over 
pretty  often,  and  I  figured  it  was  time  I  gave  you  a 
hint." 

"  Thanks,"  responded  George.  "  He  was,  in  a  way, 
placed  in  my  hands,  but  I've  no  real  control  over  him." 

"That's  so;  he's  of  age.  What  I  felt  was  this  — 
I've  nothing  against  West,  but  my  girl's  good  enough 
for  anybody,  and  I  can't  have  his  people  in  England 
looking  down  on  her  and  making  trouble.  If  they're 
not  satisfied,  they  had  better  call  him  back  right  now. 
There's  to  be  no  high-toned  condescension  in  this  mat- 
ter." 

"  I  don't  think  you  need  be  afraid  of  that,"  said 
George.  "  It  would  be  altogether  uncalled  for.  It's 
very  likely  that  I  shall  be  consulted,  and  I'll  have 
pleasure  in  telling  his  people  that  I  consider  him  a 
lucky  man." 

"  There's  another  point  —  has  West  any  means  ?  " 

"  I  believe  about  five  thousand  dollars  could  be 
raised  to  put  him  on  a  farm." 

Taunton  nodded. 

"  It's  not  very  much, but  I  don't  know  that  I'm  sorry. 
I'll  see  they're  fixed  right;  whatever  West  gets  I'll 
beat.  My  girl  shan't  be  indebted  to  her  husband's 
folks.  But  there's  not  a  word  to  be  said  about  this  yet. 
West  must  wait  another  year  before  we  decide  on 
anything." 

George  thought  the  storekeeper's  attitude  could  not 
be  found  fault  with,  and  when  he  drove  home  through 
the  soft  dusk  of  the  summer  night,  he  was  glad  to 
feel  that  there  was  no  need  for  anxiety  about  the 
choice  Edgar  had  made. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE   LEADING    WITNESS 

/"T"VHREE  or  four  weeks  passed  quietly  without  any 
•*•  news  from  Flett  until  one  evening  when  Edgar 
sat  talking  to  Miss  Taunton  in  the  office  of  her 
father's  store  at  Sage  Butte.  The  little,  dusty  room 
was  unpleasantly  hot  and  filled  with  the  smell  of  resin- 
ous pine  boards;  there  was  a  drawl  of  voices  and  an 
occasional  patter  of  footsteps  outside  the  door;  and 
a  big  book,  which  seemed  to  have  no  claim  on  her  at- 
tention, lay  open  on  the  table  in  front  of  the  girl. 

She  was  listening  to  Edgar  with  a  smile  in  her 
eyes,  and  looking,  so  he  thought,  remarkably  attractive 
in  her  light  summer  dress  which  left  her  pretty,  round 
arms  uncovered  to  the  elbow  and  displayed  the  pol- 
ished whiteness  of  her  neck.  He  was  expressing  his 
approval  of  the  current  fashions,  which  he  said  were 
rational  and  particularly  becoming  to  people  with 
skins  like  ivory.  Indeed,  he  was  so  engrossed  in  his 
subject  that  he  did  not  hear  footsteps  approaching 
until  his  companion  flashed  a  warning  glance  at  him; 
and  he  swung  round  with  some  annoyance  as  the  door 
opened. 

"  I  guessed  I  would  find  you  here,"  said  the  station- 
agent,  looking  in  with  an  indulgent  smile. 

"  You're  a  thoughtful  man,"  retorted  Edgar. 
"  You  may  as  well  tell  me  what  you  want." 

3" 


312  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I've  a  wire  from  Flett,  sent  at  Hatfield,  down  the 
line." 

"  What  can  he  be  doing  there  ?  "  Edgar  exclaimed ; 
and  Miss  Taunton  showed  her  interest. 

"  He  was  coming  through  on  the  train.  Wanted 
Mr.  Lansing  to  meet  him  at  the  station,  if  he  was  in 
town.  Hadn't  you  better  go  along?" 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Edgar  resignedly,  glancing  at 
his  watch.  "  It  looks  as  if  your  men  had  taken  their 
time.  Flett  should  be  here  in  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  now." 

"  Operator  had  train  orders  to  get  through ;  we 
have  two  freights  side-tracked,"  the  agent  explained. 
"  Don't  be  late ;  she's  coming  along  on  time." 

He  hurried  out,  and  a  few  minutes  later  Edgar 
crossed  the  street  and  strolled  along  the  low  wooden 
platform,  upon  which  a  smart  constable  was  waiting. 
A  long  trail  of  smoke,  drawing  rapidly  nearer, 
streaked  the  gray  and  ochre  of  the  level  plain,  and 
presently  the  big  engine  and  dusty  cars  rolled  into 
the  station  amid  the  hoarse  tolling  of  the  bell.  As 
they  ran  slowly  past  him,  Edgar  saw  a  police  trooper 
leaning  out  from  a  vestibule,  and  when  the  train 
stopped  the  constable  on  the  platform  hurried  toward 
the  car.  A  hum  of  excited  voices  broke  out  and 
Edgar  had  some  difficulty  in  pushing  through  the 
growing  crowd  to  reach  the  steps.  A  constable,  who 
had  hard  work  to  keep  the  others  back,  let  him  pass, 
and  he  found  Flett  standing  on  the  platform  above, 
looking  rather  jaded,  with  a  pistol  loose  in  his  holster. 

"  Isn't  Mr.  Lansing  here  ? "  Flett  asked  eagerly, 
and  then  turned  to  the  trooper.  "  Keep  those  fel- 
lows off!" 


THE  LEADING  WITNESS  313 

"No,"  answered  Edgar;  "he  hasn't  come  into 
town.  But  what's  the  cause  of  this  commotion? 
Have  you  got  your  men  ?  " 

"  Three  of  them,"  said  Flett,  with  a  look  of  pride. 
"  I  expect  we'll  get  the  fourth.  But  come  in  a  min- 
ute, out  of  the  noise." 

The  car  was  besieged.  Curious  men  were  clamber- 
ing up  the  side  of  it,  trying  to  peer  in  through  the  win- 
dows; others  disputed  angrily  with  the  trooper  who 
drove  them  off  the  steps.  Eager  questions  were 
shouted  and  scraps  of  random  information  given,  and 
groups  of  people  were  excitedly  running  across  the 
street  to  the  station.  It  was,  however,  a  little  quieter 
in  the  vestibule  when  Flett  had  banged  the  door.  He 
next  opened  the  inner  door  that  led  to  the  smoking 
compartment  of  the  Colonist  car.  In  spite  of  its 
roominess,  it  was  almost  insufferably  hot  and  very 
dirty;  the  sunlight  struck  in  through  the  win- 
dows; sand  and  fine  cinders  lay  thick  upon  the  floor. 
A  pile  of  old  blue  blankets  lay,  neatly  folded,  on  one 
of  the  wooden  seats,  and  on  those  adjoining  sat  three 
men.  Two  wore  brown  duck  overalls,  gray  shirts, 
and  big  soft  hats ;  one  was  dressed  in  threadbare  cloth ; 
but  there  was  nothing  that  particularly  suggested 
the  criminal  in  any  of  their  sunburned  faces.  They 
looked  hot  and  weary  with  the  journey,  and  though 
their  expression  was  perhaps  a  little  hard,  they  looked 
like  harvest  hands  traveling  in  search  of  work.  One, 
who  was  quietly  smoking,  took  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth  and  spoke  to  Flett. 

"Can't  you  get  us  some  ice?"  he  asked.  "The 
water  in  the  tank  isn't  fit  to  drink." 

"  They  haven't  any  here.     You'll  have  to  wait  until 


314  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

we  get  to  the  junction,"  Flett  told  him,  and  drew  Ed- 
gar back  into  the  vestibule. 

"  We're  taking  them  right  along  to  Regina,"  he 
explained.  "  I'm  sorry  I  couldn't  see  Mr.  Lansing, 
but  I'll  ride  over  as  soon  as  I'm  sent  back.  If  he's 
likely  to  be  away,  he'd  better  send  word  to  the  sta- 
tion." 

"  I  don't  expect  he'll  leave  the  farm  during  the  next 
few  weeks,"  said  Edgar. 

Then  one  of  the  constables  looked  in. 

"  Conductor  says  he  can't  hold  up  the  train." 

"I'll  be  off,"  said  Edgar,  with  a  smile  at  Flett. 
"  This  should  mean  promotion ;  it's  a  fine  piece  of 
work." 

He  jumped  down  as  the  train  pulled  out  and  hur- 
ried back  to  the  store  where  Miss  Taunton  was  eagerly 
awaiting  news.  Soon  afterward  he  left;  and  as  he 
rode  up  to  the  homestead  day  was  breaking,  but  he 
found  George  already  at  work  in  the  stable. 

"  It's  lucky  we  don't  need  your  horse.  If  you're 
going  to  keep  up  this  kind  of  thing,  you  had  better 
buy  an  automobile,"  he  remarked. 

Edgar  laughed. 

"  I  don't  feel  remarkably  fresh,  but  I'll  hold  out 
until  to-night.  There's  the  fallowing  to  be  got  on 
with;  I  suppose  nothing  must  interfere  with  that. 
But  aren't  you  up  a  little  earlier  than  usual  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  haul  in  the  posts  for  the  new  fence. 
Grierson  has  his  hands  full,  and  now  that  there  are 
four  of  us,  Jake  spends  so  much  time  in  cooking." 

"  A  reckless  waste  of  precious  minutes ! "  Edgar 
exclaimed  ironically.  "  If  one  could  only  get  over 
these  troublesome  bodily  needs,  you  could  add  hours 


THE  LEADING  WITNESS  315 

of  work  to  every  week  and  make  Sylvia  Marston  rich. 
By  the  way,  Jake's  cooking  is  getting  awful." 

He  put  up  his  horse  and  busied  himself  with  several 
tasks  before  he  went  in  to  breakfast.  When  it  was 
finished,  and  the  others  went  out,  he  detained 
George. 

"  What  did  vou  think  of  that  meal?  "  he  asked. 

«/ 

"  Well,"  said  George,  "  it  might  have  been  better." 

Edgar  laughed  scornfully. 

"  It  would  take  some  time  to  tell  you  my  opinion, 
but  I  may  as  well  point  out  that  you're  paying  a  big 
bill  for  stores  to  Taunton,  though  we  never  get  any- 
thing fit  to  eat.  Helen  and  I  were  talking  over  your 
account,  and  she  wondered  what  we  did  with  the 
things,  besides  giving  me  an  idea.  It's  this  —  why 
don't  you  tell  Grierson  to  bring  out  his  wife?  " 

"  I  never  thought  of  it.  She  might  not  come;  and 
she  may  not  cook  much  better  than  Jake." 

"  She  certainly  couldn't  cook  worse !  I  expect  she 
would  save  her  wages,  and  she  would  set  a  hired  man 
free.  Jake  can  drive  a  team." 

"  It's  a  good  idea,"  George  agreed.  "  Send  Grier- 
son in." 

The  man  came  a  few  minutes  later. 

"  We  get  on  pretty  well ;  I  suppose  you  are  willing 
to  stay  with  me  ?  "  George  said  to  him. 

Grierson  hesitated  and  looked  disturbed. 
'  The  fact  is,  I'd  be  very  sorry  to  leave ;  but  I'm 
afraid  I'll  have  to  by  and  by.     You  see,  I've  got  to 
find  a  place  I  can  take  my  wife  to." 

"Can  she  cook?" 

'  Yes,"  said  Grierson,  indicating  the  remnants  on 
the  table  with  contempt.     "  She  would  do  better  than 


316  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

this  with  her  eyes  shut!  Then,"  he  continued 
eagerly,  "  she  can  wash  and  mend  clothes.  I've  no- 
ticed that  you  and  Mr.  West  throw  half  your  things 
away  long  before  you  need  to." 

"  That's  true,"  Edgar  admitted.  "  It's  the  custom 
of  the  country;  time's  too  valuable  to  spend  in  mend- 
ing anything,  though  I've  noticed  that  one  or  two  of 
the  people  who  tell  you  about  the  value  of  time  get 
through  a  good  deal  of  it  lounging  round  the  Sachem. 
Anyway,  amateur  laundering's  an  abomination,  and 
I'm  most  successful  in  washing  the  buttons  and  wrist- 
bands off."  He  turned  to  his  companion.  "  George, 
you'll  have  to  send  for  Mrs.  Grierson." 

The  matter  was  promptly  arranged,  and  when 
Grierson  went  out  with  a  look  of  keen  satisfaction. 
Edgar  laughed. 

"  I  feel  like  pointing  out  how  far  an  idea  can  go. 
Helen  only  thought  of  making  me  a  little  more  com- 
fortable, and  you  see  the  result  of  it  —  Grierson  and 
his  wife  united,  things  put  into  shape  here,  four  peo- 
ple content!  Of  course,  one  could  cite  a  more  strik- 
ing example;  I  mean  when  Sylvia  Marston  thought 
you  had  better  go  out  and  look  after  her  farm. 
There's  no  need  to  mention  the  far-reaching  conse- 
quences that  opinion  had." 

"  I  volunteered  to  go  out,"  George  corrected  him. 

"  Well,"  said  Edgar,  "  I  quite  believe  you  did  so. 
But  you're  no  doubt  pining  to  get  at  the  fence." 

They  went  off  to  work,  but  Edgar,  driving  the 
gang-plow  through  the  stubble  under  a  scorching  sun, 
thought  that  Sylvia's  idea  might  bear  more  fruit  than 
she  had  calculated  on,  and  that  it  would  be  bitter  to 
her.  His  mind,  however,  was  chiefly  occupied  with 


THE  LEADING  WITNESS          317 

a  more  attractive  person,  and  once  when  he  turned 
the  heavy  horses  at  the  end  of  the  furrows  he  said 
softly,  "May  I  deserve  her!"  and  looked  up  with  a 
tense  expression  in  his  hot  face,  as  if  making  some 
firm  resolve,  which  was  a  procedure  that  would  have 
astonished  even  those  who  knew  him  well. 

A  week  passed,  each  day  growing  brighter  and  hot- 
ter, until  the  glare  flung  back  by  sandy  soil  and  whi- 
tening grass  became  painful,  and  George  and  his 
assistants  discarded  most  of  their  clothing  when  they 
went  about  their  tasks.  The  oats  began  to  show  a 
silvery  gleam  as  they  swayed  in  the  strong  light;  the 
wheat  was  changing  color,  and  there  were  warm  cop- 
pery gleams  among  the  heavy  ears;  horses  and  cattle 
sought  the  poplars'  shade.  Then  one  evening  when 
the  Grants  had  driven  over,  Flett  arrived  at  the  home- 
stead, and,  sitting  on  the  stoop  as  the  air  grew  cooler, 
related  his  adventures. 

"  I  guess  my  chiefs  wouldn't  be  pleased  to  hear  me; 
we're  not  encouraged  to  talk,  but  there's  a  reason  for 
it,  as  you'll  see  when  I'm  through,"  he  said,  and 
plunged  abruptly  into  his  narrative. 

It  proved  to  be  a  moving  tale  of  weary  rides  in 
scorching  heat  and  in  the  dusk  of  night,  of  rebuffs 
and  daunting  failures.  Flett,  as  he  admitted,  had 
several  times  been  cleverly  misled  and  had  done  some 
unwise  things,  but  he  had  never  lost  his  patience  nor 
relaxed  his  efforts.  Slowly  and  doggedly,  picking  up 
scraps  of  information  where  he  could,  he  had  trailed 
his  men  to  the  frontier,-  where  his  real  troubles  had 
begun.  Once  that  he  crossed  it,  he  had  no  authority, 
and  the  American  sheriffs  and  deputies  were  not  in- 
variably sympathetic.  Some,  he  concluded,  were  un- 


318  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

duly  influenced  by  local  opinion,  which  was  not  in 
favor  of  interfering  with  people  who  confined  their 
depredations  to  Canadian  horses.  Others,  who  ac- 
knowledged past  favors  from  Regina,  foresaw  trouble- 
some complications  before  he  could  be  allowed  to 
deport  the  offenders;  but  some,  with  a  strong  sense  of 
duty,  offered  willing  help,  and  that  was  how  he  had 
been  able  to  make  the  arrests  on  Canadian  soil. 

"  Now,"  he  concluded,  "  we  tracked  these  men  from 
point  to  point  and  I've  evidence  to  prove  most  of  their 
moves,  but  they  never  had  the  four  horses  in  a  bunch 
until  they  made  Montana,  which  is  a  point  against  us. 
We  can  show  they  were  working  as  a  gang,  that  they 
were  altogether  with  the  horses  on  American  soil,  but 
as  we  haven't  corralled  the  only  man  Mr.  Grant  could 
swear  to,  there's  only  one  way  of  proving  how  they 
got  them.  You  see  where  all  this  leads  ?  " 

"  It  looks  as  if  you  depended  on  my  evidence  for  a 
conviction,"  said  George. 

Flett  nodded. 

"  You  saw  Mr.  Grant  attacked  and  the  horses  run 
off.  You  can  identify  one  man,  and  we'll  connect  him 
with  the  rest." 

He  took  out  a  paper  and  handed  it  to  George. 

"  It's  my  duty  to  serve  you  with  this ;  and  now  that 
it's  done,  I'll  warn  you  to  watch  out  until  after  the 
trial.  If  we  can  convict  these  fellows,  we  smash  the 
crowd,  but  we'd  be  helpless  without  you." 

George  opened  the  document  and  found  it  a  formal 
summons  to  attend  the  court  at  Regina  on  a  date  spe- 
cified. Then  he  produced  another  paper  and  gave  it 
to  Flett  with  a  smile. 


THE  LEADING  WITNESS  319 

"  The  opposition  seem  to  recognize  my  importance, 
and  they  move  more  quickly  than  the  police." 

The  trooper  took  the  letter,  which  was  typed  and 
bore  no  date  or  name  of  place. 

" '  Keep  off  this  trial  and  you'll  have  no  more 
trouble,'  "  he  read  aloud.  "  '  Back  up  the  police  and 
you'll  be  sorry.  If  you  mean  to  drop  them,  drive  over 
to  the  Butte,  Thursday,  and  get  supper  at  the 
Queen's/  " 

"  Yesterday  was  Thursday,  and  I  didn't  go," 
George  said  after  a  moment's  silence. 

The  quiet  intimation  was  not  a  surprise  to  any  of 
them,  and  Flett  nodded  as  he  examined  the  letter. 

"  Not  much  of  a  clue,"  he  remarked.  "  Toronto 
paper  that's  sold  at  every  store;  mailed  two  stations 
down  the  line.  Nobody  would  have  met  you  at  the 
Queen's,  but  most  anybody  in  town  would  know  if 
you  had  been  there.  Anyway,  I'll  take  this  along." 
He  rose.  "  I  can't  stop,  but  I  want  to  say  we're  not 
afraid  of  your  backing  down." 

He  rode  off  in  a  few  more  minutes  and  after  a 
while  the  Grants  took  their  leave,  but  Flora  walked 
down  the  trail  with  George  while  the  team  was  being 
harnessed. 

"  You'll  be  careful,  won't  you?  "  she  said.  "  These 
men  are  dangerous;  they  know  yours  is  the  most  im- 
portant evidence.  I  shall  be  anxious  until  the  trial." 

There  was  something  in  her  eyes  and  voice  that 
sent  a  curious  thrill  through  George. 

"  I  don't  think  that's  needful ;  I  certainly  won't  be 
reckless,"  he  said. 

Then  Flora  got  into  the  vehicle;  and  during  the 


320  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

next  week  or  two  George  took  precautions.  Indeed, 
he  now  and  then  felt  a  little  uncomfortable  when  he 
had  occasion  to  pass  a  shadowy  bluff.  He  carried  a 
pistol  when  he  went  around  the  outbuildings  at  night, 
and  fell  into  a  habit  of  stopping  to  listen,  ready  to 
strike  or  shoot,  each  time  he  opened  the  door  of  one 
in  the  dark. 

For  all  that,  nothing  occurred  to  excite  suspicion, 
and  after  a  while  he  felt  inclined  to  smile  at  his  nerv- 
ousness. At  length,  one  day  when  the  trial  was 
close  at  hand,  and  Edgar  had  gone  to  the  Butte,  the 
mail-carrier  brought  him  a  note  from  Grant. 

It  consisted  of  a  couple  of  lines  asking  him  to  come 
over  during  the  evening,  and  as  supper  had  been  fin- 
ished two  hours  before,  George  realized  that  there  was 
not  much  time  to  spare.  Laying  down  the  note,  he 
walked  to  the  door  and  called  his  Canadian  hired  man. 

"  Put  the  saddle  on  the  brown  horse,  Jake ;  I'm  go- 
ing to  Grant's." 

The  man  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  when  George 
was  about  to  mount  handed  him  a  repeating  rifle. 

"Better  take  this  along;  cylinder's  full,"  he  said. 
"  It  will  be  dark  before  you  get  there." 

George  hesitated.  The  rifle  was  heavy,  but  it  was 
a  more  reliable  weapon  than  a  pistol,  and  he  rode  off 
with  it.  The  sun  had  dipped  when  he  started,  the 
air  was  rapidly  cooling,  and  after  spending  the  day 
sinking  holes  for  fence  posts  in  the  scorching  sun,  he 
found  the  swift  motion  and  the  little  breeze  that 
fanned  his  face  pleasant.  To  the  northwest,  a  flush 
of  vivid  crimson  glowed  along  the  horizon,  but  the 
sweep  of  grass  was  growing  dim  and  a  bluff  he  reached 
at  length  stood  out,  a  sharp-cut,  dusky  mass,  against 


THE  LEADING  WITNESS  321 

the  fading  light.  He  pulled  up  his  horse  on  its  out- 
skirts. A  narrow  trail  led  through  the  wood,  its  en- 
trance marked  by  a  dark  gap  among  the  shadowy 
trees,  and  it  somehow  looked  forbidding.  The  bluff, 
however,  stretched  across  his  path ;  it  was  getting  late, 
and  George  was  a  little  impatient  of  the  caution  he 
had  been  forced  to  exercise.  Laying  his  rifle  ready 
across  the  saddle,  he  sent  his  horse  forward. 

It  was  quite  dark  in  the  bluff,  though  here  and 
there  he  could  see  a  glimmer  of  faint  red  and  orange 
between  the  trees,  and  the  stillness  had  a  slightly  dis- 
turbing effect  on  him.  Not  a  leaf  moved,  the  beat  of 
his  horse's  hoofs  rang  sharply  down  the  narrow  trail 
above  which  the  thin  birch  branches  met.  He  wanted 
to  get  out  into  the  open,  where  he  could  see  about,  as 
soon  as  possible.  There  was,  however,  no  ostensible 
cause  for  uneasiness  and  he  rode  on  quietly,  until  he 
heard  a  soft  rustling  among  the  slender  trunks.  Pull- 
ing up  the  horse,  he  called  out,  and,  as  he  half  expected, 
got  no  answer.  Then  he  cast  a  swift  glance  ahead. 
There  was  a  gleam  of  dim  light  not  far  away  where 
the  trail  led  out  of  the  bluff.  Throwing  the  rifle  to  his 
shoulder,  George  fired  into  the  shadows. 

The  horse  plunged  violently  and  broke  into  a  fright- 
ened gallop.  George  heard  a  whistle  and  a  sharper 
rustling,  and  rode  toward  the  light  at  a  furious  pace. 
Then  his  horse  suddenly  stumbled  and  came  down. 
The  rifle  flew  out  of  George's  hand,  and  he  was  hurled 
against  a  tree.  The  next  moment  he  felt  himself 
rudely  seized,  and  what  he  thought  was  a  jacket  was 
wrapped  about  his  head.  Shaken  by  his  fall,  he  could 
make  no  effective  resistance,  and  he  was  dragged  a 
few  yards  through  the  bush  and  flung  into  a  wagon. 


322  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

He  tried  to  pull  the  jacket  from  his  face,  and  failed ; 
somebody  brutally  beat  him  down  against  the  side  of 
the  vehicle  when  he  struggled  to  get  up.  He  heard  a 
whip  crack,  the  wagon  swayed  and  jolted,  and  he  knew 
the  team  was  starting  at  a  gallop. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
FLORA'S  ENLIGHTENMENT 

TT  was  nearly  midnight  when  Edgar  returned  from 
•••  the  settlement  and  saw,  to  his  surprise,  lights  still 
burning  in  the  homestead.  Entering  the  living-room, 
he  found  Grierson  sitting  there  with  Jake,  and  it  struck 
him  that  they  looked  uneasy. 

"  What's  keeping  you  up?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  thought  I'd  wait  for  the  boss,"  said  the  Canadian. 
"  He  went  over  to  Grant's  after  supper,  and  he's  not 
come  back." 

"  That's  curious.     He  said  nothing  about  going." 

"  A  note  came  by  the  mail.     It's  lying  yonder." 

Edgar  picked  it  up  and  brought  it  near  the  lamp. 
The  paper  was  good  and  printed  with  Grant's  postal 
address,  which  was  lengthy. 

"  I  figured  I'd  go  and  meet  him,"  Jake  resumed. 
"  Took  the  shot-gun  and  rode  through  the  bluff. 
Didn't  see  anything  of  him,  and  it  struck  me  Grant 
might  have  kept  him  all  night,  as  it  was  getting  late. 
He's  stayed  there  before." 

Edgar  examined  the  note,  for  he  was  far  from  sat- 
isfied. George  had  only  twice  spent  a  night  at 
Grant's,  once  when  he  was  driving  cattle,  and  again 
when  it  would  have  been  risky  to  face  the  weather. 
The  paper  was  undoubtedly  Grant's,  but  Edgar  could 

323 


324  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

not  identify  the  farmer's  hand;  the  notes  that  had 
come  over  had  been  written  by  Flora.  Then  he  re- 
membered that  George  had  bought  some  implements 
from  Grant,  and  had  filed  the  rancher's  receipt.  Ed- 
gar hurriedly  found  it  and  compared  it  with  the  letter. 
Then  his  face  grew  troubled,  for  the  writing  was  not 
the  same. 

"  I'm  afraid  Mr.  Lansing  never  got  to  Grant's,"  he 
said.  "  I'll  ride  over  at  once." 

"Then  I'm  coming,"  Jake  said  shortly.  "  I'll  bring 
the  gun  along." 

Grierson  lifted  a  clenched  brown  hand. 

"  So  am  I !  If  Mr.  Lansing's  hurt,  somebody's  got 
to  pay!" 

Edgar  was  stirred  by  something  in  their  looks  and 
voices ;  George  had  gained  a  hold  on  these  men's  loy- 
alty which  the  regular  payment  of  wages  could  never 
have  given  him.  He  merely  signified  assent,  and, 
running  out,  sprang  into  the  saddle.  The  others  had 
evidently  had  their  horses  ready,  for  he  heard  them 
riding  after  him  in  a  minute  or  two,  though  he  was 
galloping  recklessly  through  the  bluff  when  they  came 
up.  The  homestead  was  dark  when  they  reached  it, 
and  they  shouted  once  or  twice  before  Grant  came 
down. 

"Is  George  here  ?  "  Edgar  asked. 

"  No,"  said  Grant,  "  we  didn't  expect  him." 

"  Then  get  on  your  clothes  quick !  There's  work 
on  hand ! " 

Grant  brought  him  in  and  struck  a  light,  then  hur- 
riedly left  the  room;  and  Flora  came  with  him,  fully 
dressed,  when  he  reappeared.  Edgar  supposed  she 
had  heard  his  sharp  inquiry  at  the  door,  and  he  no- 


FLORA'S  ENLIGHTENMENT        325 

ticed  that  her  expression  was  strained.  He  threw 
the  note  on  the  table. 

"  After  what  you  said,  I  needn't  ask  if  you  wrote 
that." 

"  I  didn't,"  Grant  told  him.  "  It's  not  like  my 
hand.  I  suppose  Lansing  started  when  he  got  it  and 
has  not  come  back  ?  " 

"  You  have  guessed  right.  Where  are  they  likely 
to  have  waylaid  him,  and  where  will  they  probably  take 
him?" 

"  The  bluff,  sure.  They  might  head  north  for 
empty  country,  or  south  for  the  frontier." 

"  The  frontier,"  Flora  broke  in. 

"  It's  what  I  think,"  said  Edgar.  "  Shall  I  send  a 
man  for  Flett,  or  will  you  ?  " 

"  That's  fixed,  anyway,"  said  a  voice  outside  the 
open  door.  "  We're  not  going." 

It  was  obvious  that  the  hired  men  had  followed 
them  as  far  as  the  passage,  for  Grierson,  entering  the 
room,  explained: 

"  He  means  we've  made  up  our  minds  to  look  for 
Mr.  Lansing." 

Grant  nodded  in  assent. 

"  Then  my  man  goes.  Turn  out  the  boys,  Jake ; 
you  know  the  place.  I  want  three  horses  saddled 
quick." 

"  Four,"  said  Flora,  firmly.     "  I'm  coming." 

Grant  did  not  try  to  dissuade  her. 

"  Write  to  Flett,"  he  said. 

He  went  out  hastily  in  search  of  blankets  and  pro- 
visions, and  when  he  returned,  his  hired  men  had 
gathered  about  the  door  and  the  note  was  finished. 
He  threw  it  to  one  of  them. 


326  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Ride  with  that  as  hard  as  you  can,"  he  said,  and 
called  another.  "  You'll  come  with  us." 

"  We're  a  strong  party  already,"  Edgar  broke  in. 
"  You're  leaving  the  place  poorly  guarded,  and  the 
rustlers  may  have  counted  on  something  of  the  kind. 
Suppose  they  finish  their  work  by  driving  off  every 
beast  that's  left  as  soon  as  we  have  gone." 

"  I've  got  to  take  my  chances;  we'll  want  the  boys 
to  make  a  thorough  search." 

Grant  swung  round  toward  the  remaining  men. 

''  You  two  will  watch  out  behind  the  woodstack  or 
in  the  granary.  No  stranger's  to  come  near  house  or 
stable." 

"  The  woodpile,"  said  Flora,  with  a  hard  white 
face  and  an  ominous  sparkle  in  her  eyes.  "  You 
would  command  the  outbuildings  there.  If  anybody 
tries  to  creep  up  at  night,  call  once,  and  then  shoot  to 
kill." 

Edgar  saw  that  she  meant  her  instructions  to  be 
carried  out ;  but  he  forced  a  smile. 

"  And  this  is  the  Canadian  wheat-belt,  which  I  was 
told  was  so  peaceful  and  orderly!  " 

"  It  looks  as  if  you  had  been  misinformed,"  Flora 
rejoined  with  a  cold  collectedness  which  he  thought 
of  as  dangerous.  "  One,  however,  now  and  then 
hears  of  violent  crime  in  London." 

They  were  mounted  in  a  few  minutes,  and  after 
a  hard  ride  the  party  broke  up  at  dawn,  dispersing  so 
that  each  member  of  it  could  make  independent  search 
and  inquiries  at  the  scattered  homesteads.  Meeting 
places  and  means  of  communication  were  arranged; 
but  Flora  and  her  father  rode  together,  pushing  on 
steadily  southward  over  the  vast  gray  plain.  Little 


FLORA'S  ENLIGHTENMENT        327 

was  said  except  when  they  called  at  some  outlying 
farm,  but  Grant  now  and  then  glanced  at  the  girl's 
set  face  with  keenly  scrutinizing  eyes.  In  the  middle 
of  the  scorching  afternoon  he  suggested  that  she 
should  await  his  return  at  a  homestead  in  the  distance, 
but  was  not  surprised  when  she  uncompromisingly 
refused.  They  spent  the  night  at  a  small  ranch,  bor- 
rowed fresh  horses  in  the  morning,  and  set  out  again ; 
but  they  found  no  trace  of  the  fugitives  during  the 
day,  and  it  was  evening  when  Edgar  and  Grierson 
joined  them,  as  arranged,  at  a  lonely  farm.  The  two 
men  rode  in  wearily  on  jaded  horses,  and  Flora,  who 
was  the  first  to  notice  their  approach,  went  out  to 
meet  them. 

"  Nothing?  "  she  said,  when  she  saw  their  dejected 
faces. 

"  Nothing,"  Edgar  listlessly  answered.  "If  the 
people  we  have  seen  aren't  in  league  with  the  rustlers 
—  and  I  don't  think  that's  probable  —  the  fellows 
must  have  gone  a  different  way." 

"  They've  gone  south!  "  Flora  insisted.  "  We  may 
be  a  little  too  far  to  the  east  of  their  track." 

'  Then,  we  must  try  a  different  line  of  country  to- 
morrow." 

The  farmer's  wife  had  promised  to  find  Flora  quar- 
ters, the  men  were  offered  accommodation  in  a  barn, 
and  when  the  air  cooled  sharply  in  the  evening,  Edgar 
walked  out  on  to  the  prairie  with  the  girl.  She  had 
kept  near  him  since  his  arrival,  but  he  was  inclined  to 
believe  this  was  rather  on  account  of  his  association 
with  George  than  because  she  found  any  charm  in  his 
society.  By  and  by,  they  sat  down  on  a  low  rise  from 
which  they  could  see  the  sweep  of  grass  run  on,  chang- 


328  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

ing  to  shades  of  blue  and  purple,  toward  the  smoky 
red  glare  of  sunset  on  its  western  rim.  To  the  south, 
it  was  all  dim  and  steeped  in  dull  neutral  tones,  con- 
veying an  idea  of  vast  distance. 

Flora  shivered,  drawing  her  thin  linen  jacket  to- 
gether while  she  buttoned  it,  and  Edgar  noticed  some- 
thing beneath  it  that  broke  the  outline  of  her  waist. 

"  What's  that  at  your  belt  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  A  magazine  pistol,"  she  answered  with  a  rather 
harsh  laugh,  producing  the  beautifully  made  weapon. 

"  It's  a  pretty  thing.  I  wonder  whether  you  can 
use  it  ?  " 

"  Will  you  stand  up  at  about  twenty  paces  and  hold 
out  your  hat?  " 

"  Certainly  not !  "  said  Edgar  firmly.  "  I  wouldn't 
mind  putting  it  on  a  stick,  only  that  the  shot  would 
bring  the  others  out.  But  I've  no  doubt  you  can  han- 
dle a  pistol;  you're  a  curious  people." 

He  thought  the  last  remark  was  justified.  Here 
was  a  girl,  as  refined  and  highly  trained  in  many  ways 
as  any  he  had  met,  and  yet  who  owned  a  dangerous 
weapon  and  could  use  it  effectively.  Then  there  was 
her  father,  an  industrious,  peaceable  farmer,  whose 
attention  was,  as  a  rule,  strictly  confined  to  the  amass- 
ing of  money,  but  who  was  nevertheless  capable  of 
riding  or  shooting  down  the  outlaws  who  molested 
him  or  his  friends.  What  made  the  thing  more  strik- 
ing was  that  neither  of  them  had  been  used  to  alarms ; 
they  had  dwelt  in  calm  security  until  the  past  twelve 
months.  Edgar,  however,  remembered  that  they 
sprang  from  a  stock  that  had  struggled  sternly  for 
existence  with  forest  and  flood  and  frost;  no  doubt, 
in  time  of  stress,  the  strong  primitive  strain  came 


FLORA'S  ENLIGHTENMENT        329 

uppermost.  Their  nature  had  not  been  altogether 
softened  by  civilization.  The  thought  flung  a  useful 
light  upon  Flora's  character. 

"  If  the  trial's  a  lengthy  one  and  these  fellows  hold 
him  up  until  it's  over,  it  will  be  a  serious  thing  for 
George,"  he  resumed,  by  way  of  implying  that  this 
was  the  worst  that  could  befall  his  comrade.  "  The 
grain's  ripening  fast,  and  he  hasn't  made  his  arrange- 
ments for  harvest  yet.  Men  seem  pretty  scarce 
around  here,  just  now." 

"  It's  a  good  crop ;  I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Flora, 
willing  to  avoid  the  graver  side  of  the  topic.  "  Mr. 
Lansing  was  anxious  about  it,  but  this  harvest  should 
set  him  on  his  feet.  I  suppose  he  hasn't  paid  off  the 
full  price  of  the  farm." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  hasn't  paid  anything  at 
all." 

"  Then  has  he  only  rented  the  place  ?  " 

There  was  surprise  and  strong  interest  in  the  girl's 
expression  and  Edgar  saw  that  he  had  made  a  telling 
admission.  However,  he  did  not  regret  it. 

"  No,"  he  said ;  "  that's  not  the  case,  either.  The 
farm  is  still  Mrs.  Marston's." 

"  Ah !     There's  something  I  don't  understand." 

Edgar  was  sorry  for  her,  and  he  felt  that  she  was 
entitled  to  an  explanation.  Indeed,  since  George  was 
strangely  unobservant,  he  thought  it  should  have  been 
made  earlier;  but  the  matter  had  appeared  too  deli- 
cate for  him  to  meddle  with.  Now,  however,  when 
the  girl's  nature  was  strongly  stirred,  there  was  a  risk 
that,  supposing  his  comrade  was  discovered  wounded 
or  was  rescued  in  some  dramatic  way,  she  might  be 
driven  to  a  betrayal  of  her  feelings  that  would  seri- 


330  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

ously  embarrass  George  and  afterward  cause  her  dis- 
tress. 

"  George,"  he  explained,  "  is  merely  carrying  on  the 
farm  as  Mrs.  Marston's  trustee." 

"  But  that  hardly  accounts  for  his  keen  eagerness 
to  make  his  farming  profitable.  It  strikes  one  as 
springing  from  something  stronger  than  his  duty  as 
trustee." 

Edgar  nodded. 

"  Well,  you  see,  he  is  in  love  with  her !  " 

Flora  sat  quite  still  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then 
laughed  —  a  little  bitter  laugh ;  she  was  overstrained 
and  could  not  repress  it.  A  flood  of  hot  color  surged 
into  her  face,  but  in  another  moment  she  had  recovered 
some  degree  of  composure. 

"  So  that  is  why  he  came  out  ?  "  she  said. 

"Yes;  he  was  in  love  with  her  before  she  married 
Marston.  At  least,  that's  his  impression." 

"  His  impression  ?  "  echoed  Flora,  keenly  anxious 
to  cover  any  signs  of  the  shock  she  had  received  and 
to  learn  all  that  could  be  told.  "  Do  you  mean  that 
Mr.  Lansing  doesn't  know  whether  he  is  in  love  with 
her  or  not?  " 

"  No,  not  exactly !  "  Edgar  felt  that  he  was  on 
dangerous  ground.  "  I'm  afraid  I  can't  quite  explain 
what  I  really  do  mean.  George,  of  course,  is  con- 
vinced about  the  thing;  but  I've  a  suspicion  that  he 
may  be  mistaken;  though  he'd  be  very  indignant  if  he 
heard  me  say  so." 

He  paused,  doubtful  whether  he  was  handling  the 
matter  prudently,  but  he  felt  that  something  must  be 
done  to  relieve  the  strain,  and  continued : 

"  George  has  the  faculty  of  respectful  admiration 


FLORA'S  ENLIGHTENMENT        331 

highly  developed,  but  he  doesn't  use  it  with  much 
judgment;  in  fact,  he's  a  rather  reckless  idealist. 
There  are  excuses  for  him ;  he  was  never  much  thrown 
into  women's  society." 

"You  think  that  explains  it?"  Flora  forced  a 
smile.  "  But  go  on." 

"  My  idea  is  that  George  has  been  led  by  admira- 
tion and  pity,  and  not  by  love  at  all.  I  don't  think  he 
knows  the  difference;  he's  not  much  of  a  psychologist. 
Then,  you  see,  he's  thorough,  and  having  got  an  idea 
into  his  mind,  it  possesses  him  and  drives  him  to  ac- 
tion. He  doesn't  stop  to  analyze  his  feelings." 

"  So  he  came  out  to  look  after  Mrs.  Marston's  prop- 
erty because  he  felt  sorry  for  her,  and  believed  her 
worthy  of  respect?  What  is  your  opinion  of  her?'' 

"  I'll  confess  that  I  wish  she  hadn't  captivated 
George." 

Flora's  face  grew  very  scornful. 

"  I  haven't  your  chivalrous  scruples ;  and  I  know 
Mrs.  Marston.  She's  utterly  worthless!  What  is 
likely  to  happen  when  your  comrade  finds  it  out?  " 

Then  she  rose  abruptly. 

"  After  all,  that's  a  matter  which  chiefly  concerns 
Mr.  Lansing,  and  I  dare  say  the  woman  he  believes  in 
will  be  capable  of  dealing  with  the  situation.  Let's 
talk  of  something  else." 

They  turned  back  toward  the  farm,  but  Edgar 
found  it  difficult  to  start  a  fresh  topic.  All  the  work- 
ings of  his  mind  centered  upon  George,  and  he  sus- 
pected that  his  companion's  thoughts  had  a  similar 
tendency.  It  was  getting  dark  when  they  rejoined 
the  rest  of  the  party,  and  the  next  morning  Flett  and 
another  constable  rode  in.  They  had  discovered 


332  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

nothing,  but  as  they  were  ready  to  take  up  the  trail, 
Grant  left  the  task  to  them  and  turned  back  with  his 
men. 

Flora  long  remembered  the  dreary  two  day's  ride, 
for  although  she  had  borne  it  with  courage,  Edgar's 
news  had  caused  her  a  painful  shock.  She  had,  from 
the  beginning,  been  strongly  drawn  to  George,  and 
when  he  had  been  carried  off  the  knowledge  that  she 
loved  him  had  been  brought  home  to  her.  Now,  look- 
ing back  with  rudely  opened  eyes,  there  was  little  com- 
fort in  recognizing  that  he  had  made  no  demands  on 
her  affection.  Bitter  as  she  was,  she  could  not  blame 
him;  she  had  been  madly  foolish  and  must  suffer  for 
it.  She  called  her  pride  to  the  rescue,  but  it  failed 
her.  The  torturing  anxiety  about  the  man's  fate  re- 
mained, and  with  it  a  humiliating  regret,  which  was 
not  altogether  selfish,  that  it  was  Sylvia  Marston  he 
had  chosen.  Sylvia,  who  was  clever,  had,  of  course, 
tricked  him;  but  this  was  no  consolation.  It  was, 
however,  needful  to  hide  her  feelings  from  her  father 
and  assume  an  interest  in  his  remarks,  though,  when 
he  spoke,  it  was  always  of  Lansing  and  what  had 
probably  befallen  him. 

The  prairie  was  dazzlingly  bright,  the  trail  they  fol- 
lowed was  thick  with  fine  black  dust,  and  most  of  the 
day  the  heat  was  trying;  the  girl  felt  utterly  jaded  and 
very  heavy  of  heart,  but  when  it  appeared  desirable 
she  forced  herself  to  talk.  Her  father  must  never 
suspect  her  folly,  though  she  wondered  uneasily  how 
far  she  might  have  betrayed  it  to  West.  Reaching  the 
homestead  at  length,  she  resumed  her  duties,  and  anx- 
iously waited  for  news  of  George.  Once  that  she 


FLORA'S  ENLIGHTENMENT        333 

heard  he  was  safe,  it  would,  she  thought,  be  easier  to 
drive  him  out  of  her  mind  forever. 

As  it  happened,  George  had  received  only  a  few 
bruises  in  the  bluff,  and,  after  realizing  that  there  was 
no  chance  of  escape  for  the  present,  he  lay  still  in  the 
bottom  of  the  wagon.  He  blamed  himself  for  riding 
so  readily  into  the  trap,  since  it  was  obvious  that  his 
assailants  had  known  he  was  going  to  visit  Grant,  and 
had  stretched  a  strand  of  fence  wire  or  something  of 
the  kind  across  the  trail.  They  would  have  removed 
it  afterward  and  there  would  be  nothing  left  to  show 
what  had  befallen  him.  This,  however  was  a  matter 
of  minor  consequence  and  he  endeavored  to  determine 
which  way  his  captors  were  driving.  Judging  the 
nature  of  the  trail  by  the  jolting,  he  decided  that  they 
meant  to  leave  the  wood  where  he  entered  it,  which 
suggested  that  they  were  going  south,  and  this  was 
what  he  had  anticipated.  Though  he  was  sore  from 
the  effect  of  his  fall  and  the  rough  handling  which  had 
followed  it,  he  did  not  think  he  would  suffer  any  fur- 
ther violence,  so  long  as  he  made  no  attempt  to  get 
away.  The  men,  no  doubt,  only  intended  to  prevent 
his  giving  evidence,  by  keeping  him  a  prisoner  until 
after  the  trial. 

When  morning  came,  the  wagon  was  still  moving 
at  a  good  pace,  though  the  roughness  of  the  motion 
indicated  that  it  was  not  following  a  trail.  This  was 
all  George  could  discover,  because  one  of  the  men  tied 
his  arms  and  legs  before  removing  the  jacket  which 
had  muffled  his  head. 

"  I  guess  you  can't  get  up,  but  it  wouldn't  be  wise 
to  try,"  the  fellow  pointed  out  significantly. 


334  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

George  took  the  hint.  He  meant  to  escape  and  at- 
tend the  court,  but  he  had  no  wish  to  ruin  any  chance 
of  his  doing  so  by  making  a  premature  attempt.  His 
captors  meant  to  prevent  his  seeing  which  way  they 
were  going,  but  he  could  make  out  that  the  sky  was 
brightest  on  the  left  side  of  the  wagon,  which  indi- 
cated that  they  were  heading  south.  They  stopped  at 
noon  in  a  thick  bluff,  from  which,  when  he  was  re- 
leased and  allowed  to  get  down,  he  could  see  nothing 
of  the  prairie.  Only  one  man  remained  to  watch 
him;  but  as  he  was  armed,  and  George  could  hear  the 
others  not  far  away,  he  decided  that  his  escape  must 
be  postponed. 

During  the  afternoon,  they  went  on  again,  George 
occupying  his  former  position  in  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon,  where  it  was  unpleasantly  hot ;  but  the  strong- 
est glare  was  now  on  his  right  side,  which  showed 
him  that  they  were  still  holding  south.  Their  des- 
tination was  evidently  the  American  frontier.  In  the 
evening  they  camped  near  a  thicket  of  low  scrub,  and 
after  supper  George  was  permitted  to  wander  about 
and  stretch  his  aching  limbs.  It  was  rolling  country, 
broken  by  low  rises,  and  he  could  not  see  more  than  a 
mile  or  two.  There  was  nothing  that  served  as  a 
landmark,  and  as  soon  as  he  began  to  stroll  away 
from  the  camp  he  was  sharply  recalled.  In  the  end, 
he  sat  down  to  smoke,  and  did  not  move  until  he  was 
told  to  get  into  the  wagon,  where  a  blanket  was  thrown 
him.  So  far,  he  had  been  permitted  to  see  only  one 
of  his  captors  near  at  hand. 

The  next  morning  they  set  out  again.  George 
thought  that  fresh  horses  had  been  obtained  in  the 
night,  because  they  drove  at  a  rapid  pace  most  of  the 


FLORA'S  ENLIGHTENMENT        335 

day ;  and  he  was  tired  and  sore  with  the  jolting  when 
they  camped  in  another  bluff  at  sunset.  Two  more 
days  were  spent  in  much  the  same  way ;  and  then  late 
at  night  they  stopped  at  a  little  building  standing  in 
the  midst  of  an  unbroken  plain,  and  George  was  re- 
leased and  told  to  get  out.  One  of  the  men  lighted 
a  lantern  and  led  him  into  an  empty  stable,  built  of 
thick  sods.  It  looked  as  if  it  had  not  been  occupied 
for  a  long  time,  but  part  of  it  had  been  roughly 
boarded  off,  as  if  for  a  harness  room  or  store. 

"  You  have  got  your  blanket,"  said  his  companion. 
"  Put  it  down  where  you  like.  There's  only  one  door 
to  this  place,  and  you  can't  get  at  it  without  passing 
me.  I  got  a  sleep  in  the  wagon  and  don't  want  any 
more  to-night." 

George  heard  the  vehicle  jolt  away,  and  sat  down 
to  smoke  while  the  beat  of  hoofs  gradually  sank  into 
the  silence  of  the  plain.  Then  he  wrapped  his 
blanket  about  him  and  went  to  sleep  on  the  earthen 
floor. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE  ESCAPE 

EORGE  got  up  the  next  morning  feeling  cramped 
and  sore  after  his  journey,  and  carefully  looked 
about.  The  building  had  solid  walls  of  sod;  such 
rude  stalls  as  it  had  been  fitted  with  had  been  re- 
moved, perhaps  for  the  sake  of  the  lumber.  He  could 
not  reach  the  door  without  alarming  his  jailer,  who 
had  taken  up  his  quarters  behind  the  board  partition ; 
and  there  was  only  one  small  window,  placed  high  up 
and  intended  mainly  for  ventilation.  The  window 
was  very  dusty,  but  it  opened  and  George  could  see 
out  by  standing  up,  though  the  aperture  was  not  large 
enough  to  squeeze  through. 

Outside  stood  some  timbers  which  had  once  formed 
part  of  a  shack,  and  a  few  strands  of  fence  wire,  trail- 
ing from  tottering  posts,  ran  into  the  grass.  The 
place  appeared  to  have  been  a  farm,  whose  owner 
had,  no  doubt,  abandoned  it  after  finding  the  soil  too 
light,  or  after  losing  a  crop  by  frost;  but  George  was 
more  curious  to  discover  if  there  were  any  other  home- 
steads in  the  vicinity.  His  view  was  restricted,  but 
there  was  no  sign  of  life  on  the  quarter-circle  it  com- 
manded. A  flat,  grassy  waste,  broken  only  by  a  few 
clumps  of  brush,  ran  back  to  the  horizon,  and  by  the 
cold  blue  of  the  sky  and  the  drift  of  a  few  light  clouds 
floating  before  the  prevalent  westerly  wind,  he  knew 

336 


THE  ESCAPE  337 

he  was  looking  north.  This  was  the  way  he  must 
take  if  he  could  escape,  but  there  was  no  house  in 
which  he  could  seek  refuge,  and  scarcely  any  cover. 
It  was  clear  that  he  must  obtain  a  good  start  before 
he  was  missed.  He  had  an  idea  that  he  would  escape, 
though  he  admitted  that  it  was  more  optimistic  than 
rational. 

Then  he  turned  with  a  start,  to  see  his  jailer  stand- 
ing beside  him,  grinning.  The  man  had  a  hard,  de- 
termined face. 

"  Guess  you  can't  get  out  that  way;  and  it  wouldn't 
be  much  use,  anyhow,"  he  drawled.  "  The  country's 
pretty  open;  it  would  take  you  a  mighty  long  while 
to  get  out  of  sight." 

"  That's  how  it  struck  me,"  George  confessed  with 
an  air  of  good-humored  resignation.  "  Do  you  mean 
to  keep  me  here  any  time  ?  " 

"  Until  the  trial,"  the  other  answered,  standing  a 
little  away  from  him  with  his  hand  thrust  suggestively 
into  a  pocket.  "  We'll  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  you  when 
it's  finished,  but  you  certainly  can't  get  away  before 
we  let  you  go." 

George  cast  a  glance  of  keen  but  unobtrusive  scru- 
tiny at  the  man.  They  were,  he  thought,  about  equal 
in  physical  strength;  the  other's  superiority  con- 
sisted in  his  being  armed,  and  George  had  no  doubt 
that  he  was  proficient  with  his  weapons.  He  had  seen 
a  rifle  carried  into  the  building,  the  man's  hand  was 
now  resting  on  a  pistol,  and  there  was  a  light  ax  out- 
side. It  looked  as  if  an  attempt  to  escape  would  be 
attended  with  a  serious  risk,  and  George  realized  that 
he  must  wait  until  chance  or  some  slackening  of  vigi- 
lance on  his  custodians'  part  equalized  matters. 


338  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

He  was  given  breakfast,  and  afterward  told  that  he 
could  go  out  and  split  some  wood,  which  he  was  glad 
to  do.  There  was  a  pile  of  branches  and  a  few  rotten 
boards  that  had  once  formed  part  of  the  shack,  and 
he  set  to  work  to  break  them  up,  while  the  rustler  sat 
and  smoked  in  the  doorway.  The  man  ran  no  risk 
in  doing  so;  there  was  not  a  bush  within  a  quarter  of 
a  mile,  and  George  knew  that  a  bullet  would  speedily 
cut  short  his  flight.  He  could  see  nothing  that 
promised  a  secure  hiding  place  all  the  way  to  the  sky- 
line, and  he  thought  that  the  plain  ran  on  beyond  it, 
as  little  broken.  When  he  had  cut  some  wood,  he 
turned  back  toward  the  door,  and  the  man  regarded 
him  with  a  meaning  smile. 

"  Come  in,  if  you  want ;  but  leave  the  ax  right 
there,"  he  said. 

He  moved  back  a  few  paces,  out  of  reach  of  a  sud- 
den spring,  as  George  entered,  and  the  latter  realized 
that  he  did  not  mean  to  be  taken  by  surprise.  During 
the  afternoon,  another  man  arrived  on  horseback  with 
some  provisions  and  remained  until  George  went  to 
sleep.  The  following  morning,  the  stranger  had  dis- 
appeared, but  he  came  again  once  or  twice,  and  this 
was  all  that  broke  the  monotony  of  the  next  few  days. 
George,  however,  was  beginning  to  feel  the  strain; 
his  nerves  were  getting  raw,  the  constant  watchfulness 
was  wearing  him.  The  trial  would  now  be  beginning, 
and  it  was  time  the  binders  were  driven  into  his  grain ; 
the  oats  would  be  ripe,  and  his  neighbors  would  pick 
up  all  the  Ontario  hands  who  reached  the  settlement. 
Another  day  passed,  and  he  was  feeling  desperate 
when  the  relief  watcher  arrived  in  the  afternoon. 
Listening  with  strained  attention,  he  heard  the  men 


THE  ESCAPE  339 

talking  outside.  Only  a  few  words  reached  him,  but 
one  was  "  adjourned,"  and  it  filled  him  with  fresh  de- 
termination. If  he  could  escape,  it  might  not  be  too 
late. 

It  was  an  oppressive  afternoon ;  the  fresh  northwest 
breeze  had  dropped,  the  sky  was  clouded,  the  air  hot 
and  heavy.  Both  men  remained  about  the  building, 
but  George  sat  quietly  on  the  earth  floor,  smoking  and 
waiting  for  night.  A  few  large  drops  of  rain  fell, 
splashing  upon  roof  and  grass  while  he  ate  his  supper, 
but  it  stopped,  and  the  evening  was  marked  by  a  deep 
stillness.  He  felt  listless  and  disinclined  to  move ;  his 
guards,  to  judge  by  their  voices,  for  they  were  playing 
cards  outside,  were  languidly  irritable. 

Dusk  came  and  a  thick  obscurity,  unlike  the  usual 
clearness  of  the  summer  nights,  shut  in  the  lonely 
building.  It  was  intensely  dark  in  the  stable ;  George 
could  not  see  the  relief  man's  horse,  though  he  could 
now  and  then  hear  it  move.  Voices  rose  at  intervals 
from  beyond  the  partition,  but  they  ceased  at  last  and 
only  an  occasional  crackle  of  the  dry  grass  that  served 
for  seats  and  bedding  told  that  one  at  least  of  the 
rustlers  was  keeping  watch.  George  felt  his  limbs 
quiver  while  he  waited,  and  he  was  conscious  of  an 
unpleasant  tension  on  his  nerves.  There  was  thun- 
der brewing,  and  he  thought  the  storm  might  offer 
him  an  opportunity  for  getting  out. 

At  length  it  struck  him  that  the  silence  was  unu- 
sually deep.  Rising  to  his  feet  he  moved  about. 
•There  was  no  challenge;  and  by  way  of  further  ex- 
periment, he  kicked  his  tin  plate  so  that  it  rattled. 
Still  nobody  called  to  him,  though  the  horse  made  a 
little  noise  in  moving.  George  sat  down  and  took  off 


340  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

his  boots  while  his  heart  throbbed  painfully.  It 
looked  as  if  his  guards  had  gone  to  sleep.  He  moved 
a  few  yards,  stopped  to  listen,  and  went  on  for  sev- 
eral paces  more.  There  was  no  sound  yet  beyond 
the  partition,  and  he  crept  softly  past  the  horse;  he 
longed  to  lead  it  out,  but  decided  that  the  risk  would 
be  too  great. 

Then  he  stood  in  the  gap  between  the  wall  and  the 
partition,  straining  eyes  and  ears,  and  wondering 
where  the  rifle  lay.  He  could  see  nothing,  however; 
and,  creeping  on  cautiously,  with  tingling  nerves  and 
an  intolerable  feeling  of  suspense,  he  drew  level  with 
the  doorway.  It  was  hard  to  refrain  from  leaping 
out,  but  this  might  make  some  noise.  Crossing  the 
threshold  with  careful  movements,  he  made  for  the 
spot  where  he  had  cut  the  wood.  He  struck  some- 
thing that  rattled,  but  he  found  the  ax  and  the  feel  of 
it  sent  a  thrill  through  him.  It  was  light  enough  to 
be  carried  easily;  and  he  did  not  mean  to  be  recap- 
tured. 

For  some  minutes  he  moved  straight  on,  hurting 
his  feet  on  the  stronger  grass  stalks ;  and  then,  sitting 
down,  he  hastily  put  on  his  boots.  After  that  he 
broke  into  a  steady  run,  which  he  meant  to  keep  up 
as  long  as  possible.  He  was  now  anxious  that  the 
threatened  storm  should  not  break,  because  if  the 
rustlers  had  gone  to  sleep,  the  longer  they  remained 
so  the  better.  He  failed  to  understand  how  he  had 
escaped ;  perhaps  his  guards  had  been  lulled  into  false 
security  by  his  tranquil  demeanor;  perhaps  they  had 
trusted  to  each  other;  or  one,  rendered  listless  by  the 
tension  in  the  air,  had  relaxed  his  watchfulness  for 
a  few  moments.  This,  however,  did  not  matter. 


THE  ESCAPE  341 

George  was  free ;  and  he  only  wished  that  he  had  some 
idea  as  to  where  he  was  heading.  He  wanted  to  place 
a  long  distance  between  him  and  the  stable  by  morn- 
ing. 

Dripping  with  perspiration,  breathing  hard,  he  kept 
up  a  steady  pace  for,  so  he  thought,  an  hour,  after 
which  he  walked  a  mile  or  two,  and  then  broke  into 
a  run  again.  The  grass  was  short;  he  struck  no 
brush,  and  the  ax  did  not  encumber  him.  He  im- 
agined that  dawn  must  be  getting  near  when  a  daz- 
zling flash  swept  the  prairie  and  there  was  a  long 
reverberatory  rumbling  overhead.  He  was  almost 
blinded  and  bewildered,  doubly  uncertain  where  he 
was  going;  and  then  a  great  stream  of  white  fire  fell 
from  the  zenith.  The  thunder  that  followed  was 
deafening,  and  for  the  next  few  minutes  blaze  suc- 
ceeded blaze,  and  there  was  a  constant  crashing  and 
rumbling  overhead.  After  that  came  a  rush  of  chilly 
wind  and  the  air  was  filled  with  falling  water. 

A  hot,  steamy  smell  rose  about  him;  but  George, 
who  had  been  walking  again,  began  to  run.  He  must 
use  every  exertion,  for  if  he  were  right  in  concluding 
that  he  had  been  detained  on  American  soil,  his  pur- 
suers would  follow  him  north,  and  when  daylight 
came  a  mounted  man's  view  would  command  a  wide 
sweep  of  level  prairie.  The  storm  passed  away,  mut- 
tering, into  the  distance;  the  rain  ceased,  and  the  air 
was  fresh  and  cool  until  the  sun  sprang  up.  It  was 
on  his  right  hand,  he  thought  he  had  kept  his  line; 
but  he  stopped  to  consider  on  the  edge  of  a  ravine. 
The  sides  of  the  hollow  were  clothed  with  tall,  wet 
grass  and  brush;  it  would  offer  good  cover,  but  he 
could  hardly  avoid  leaving  a  track  if  he  followed  it, 


342  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

and  his  pursuers  would  search  such  spots.  It  seemed 
wiser  to  push  on  across  the  plain. 

Descending  through  the  thinnest  brush  he  could 
find,  he  stopped  for  a  drink  from  the  creek  at  the  bot- 
tom, and  then  went  on  as  fast  as  possible.  He  was 
becoming  conscious  of  a  pain  in  his  left  side ;  one  foot 
felt  sore;  and  as  the  sun  got  hotter  a  longing  to  lie 
down  a  while  grew  steadily  stronger.  Still,  he  could 
see  nothing  but  short,  gray  grass  ahead ;  he  must  hold 
on ;  there  might  be  bluffs  or  broken  country  beyond  the 
skyline. 

At  length  a  small  square  block  cut  against  the  daz- 
zling brightness  and  slowly  grew  into  a  lonely  home- 
stead. After  some  consideration,  George  headed  for 
it,  and  toward  noon  reached  a  little,  birch-log  dwell- 
ing, with  a  sod  stable  beside  it.  Both  had  an  uncared- 
for  appearance,  which  suggested  their  owner's  pov- 
erty. As  George  approached  the  door,  a  gaunt, 
hard-faced  man  in  dilapidated  overalls  came  out  and 
gazed  at  him  in  surprise.  George's  clothing,  which 
had  been  torn  when  he  was  seized  in  the  bluff,  had  fur- 
ther suffered  during  the  deluge.  He  looked  a  weary, 
ragged  outcast. 

"  Can  you  give  me  something  to  eat  and  hire  me  a 
horse  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  farmer  seemed  suspicious. 

"  Guess  I  want  my  horses  for  the  binder ;  I'm  har- 
vesting oats.", 

"  I'll  pay  you  well  for  the  time  you  lose,"  George 
broke  out. 

"How  much?" 

Thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  George  found 


THE  ESCAPE  343 

with  dismay  that  his  wallet,  which  contained  some 
bills,  was  missing. 

"  Anything  you  ask  in  reason,  but  you'll  have  to 
take  a  check  on  a  Brandon  bank.  Have  you  got  a  pen 
and  paper  in  the  house  ?  " 

"  How  am  I  to  know  your  check's  good  ?  "  The 
farmer  laughed  ironically. 

George  was  doubtful  of  the  man,  but  he  must  take 
a  risk. 

"  My  name's  Lansing,  from  the  Marston  home- 
stead, beyond  Sage  Butte.  It's  a  pretty  big  place; 
any  check  I  give  you  will  be  honored." 

The  farmer  looked  at  him  with  growing  interest. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  you  can't  have  my  horse." 

It  was  evident  from  his  manner  that  reasoning 
would  be  useless. 

"  How  does  Sage  Butte  lie  from  here  ?  "  George 
asked  him. 

"  Can't  tell  you ;  I've  never  been  in  the  place." 

George  realized  that  he  had  blundered,  both  in  call- 
ing at  the  homestead  and  in  mentioning  his  name, 
which  had  figured  in  the  newspaper  account  of  the 
attack  on  Grant.  The  farmer,  it  seemed,  had  a  good 
idea  of  the  situation,  and  if  not  in  league  with  the 
rustlers,  was  afraid  of  them.  George  was  wasting 
time  and  giving  information  that  might  put  his  pur- 
suers on  his  trail.  In  the  meanwhile  he  noticed  a  face 
at  the  window  and  a  voice  called  to  the  man,  who 
stepped  back  into  the  house  and  appeared  again  with  a 
big  slab  of  cold  pie. 

"  Take  this  and  light  out,"  he  said. 

Having  eaten  nothing  since  his  supper,  George  was 


344  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

glad  of  the  food;  but  he  walked  on  smartly  for  an 
hour  before  he  sat  down  in  a  clump  of  brush  and 
made  a  meal.  Then  he  lighted  his  pipe  and  spent  a 
couple  of  hours  in  much  needed  rest.  Haste  \vas 
highly  desirable;  he  had  no  doubt  that  he  was  being 
followed,  but  he  could  go  no  farther  for  a  while. 

It  was  very  hot  when  he  got  up;  he  was  sore  all 
over,  and  his  foot  was  paining,  but  he  set  off  at  a  run 
and  kept  it  up  until  he  had  crossed  a  rise  two  miles 
away.  The  country  was  getting  more  broken,  which 
was  in  his  favor,  because  the  clumps  of  bush  and  the 
small  elevations  would  tend  to  hide  him.  He  went 
on  until  dusk,  without  rinding  any  water;  and  then 
lay  down  among  some  tall  grass  in  the  open.  There 
was  a  little  bluff  not  far  off,  but  if  the  rustlers  came 
that  way,  he  thought  they  would  search  it.  It  grew 
cold  as  darkness  crept  down ;  indeed  he  imagined  that 
the  temperature  had  fallen  to  near  freezing-point,  as 
it  sometimes  does  on  the  plains  after  a  scorching  day. 

Part  of  the  night  he  lay  awake,  shivering;  but  dur- 
ing the  rest  he  slept;  and  he  rose  at  dawn,  very  cold 
and  wet  with  dew.  His  foot  was  very  sore,  and  he 
had  a  sharp  pain  in  his  side.  For  the  first  hour,  walk- 
ing cost  him  an  effort;  but  as  he  grew  warmer  it  be- 
came less  difficult,  and  his  foot  felt  easier.  Then,  as 
he  crossed  a  slight  elevation,  he  saw  a  faint  gray  smear 
on  the  far  horizon  and  it  sent  a  thrill  through  him. 
Canadian  locomotives  burning  native  coal  pour  out 
clouds  of  thick  black  smoke  which  can  be  seen  a  long 
way  in  the  clear  air  of  the  prairie.  George  was  thirty 
or  forty  feet,  he  thought,  above  the  general  level  of 
the  plain,  the  light  was  strong,  and  he  imagined  that 
it  would  take  him  most  of  the  day  to  reach  the  spot 


THE  ESCAPE  345 

over  which  the  smoke  had  floated.  He  was,  how- 
ever, heading  for  the  track,  and  he  gathered  his  cour- 
age. 

He  saw  no  more  smoke  for  a  long  time  —  the  in- 
creasing brightness  seemed  to  diminish  the  clarity  of 
the  air.  Before  noon  the  pain  in  his  side  had  become 
almost  insupportable,  and  his  head  was  swimming; 
he  felt  worn  out,  scarcely  able  to  keep  on  his  feet,  but 
again  a  gray  streak  on  the  horizon  put  heart  into  him. 
It  did  not  appear  to  move  for  a  while,  and  he  thought 
it  must  have  been  made  by  a  freight-engine  working 
about  a  station.  Then,  as  he  came  down  the  gradual 
slope  of  a  wide  depression,  a  long  bluff  on  its  opposite 
verge  cut  the  skyline,  a  hazy  smear  of  neutral  color. 
He  determined  to  reach  the  wood  and  lie  down  for  a 
time  in  its  shadow. 

It  scarcely  seemed  to  grow  any  nearer,  and  an  hour 
had  passed  before  it  assumed  any  regularity  of  out- 
line. When  it  had  grown  into  shape,  George  stopped 
and  looked  about.  It  was  fiercely  hot,  the  grass  was 
dazzlingly  bright,  there  was  no  house  or  sign  of  culti- 
vation as  far  as  his  sight  ranged ;  but  on  glancing  back 
he  started  as  he  saw  three  small  mounted  figures  on 
the  plain.  They  had  not  been  there  when  he  last 
turned  around,  and  they  were  moving,  spread  out 
about  a  mile  apart.  It  was  obvious  that  the  rustlers 
were  on  his  trail.  For  another  moment  he  looked  at 
the  bluff,  breathing  hard,  with  his  lips  tight  set.  If 
he  could  reach  the  wood  before  he  was  overtaken,  it 
would  offer  him  cover  from  a  bullet,  and  if  he  could 
not  evade  his  enemies,  he  might  make  a  stand  with  the 
ax  among  the  thicker  trees.  It  was  an  irrational 
idea,  as  he  half  recognized ;  but  he  had  grown  savage 


346  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

with  fatigue,  and  he  had  already  suffered  as  much  as 
he  was  capable  of  bearing  at  the  hands  of  the  cattle 
thieves.  Now  he  meant  to  turn  on  them;  but  he 
would  be  at  their  mercy  in  the  open. 

His  weariness  seemed  to  fall  away  from  him  to 
give  place  to  grim  fury  as  he  broke  into  a  run,  and  he 
did  not  look  back  for  a  while.  When  he  did  so,  the 
figures  had  grown  larger ;  one  could  see  that  they  were 
moving  swiftly;  and  the  bluff  was  still  far  away. 
George  believed  that  he  had  been  noticed  and  he  strove 
to  quicken  his  pace.  The  beat  of  hoofs  was  in  his 
ears  when  he  next  looked  around ;  the  three  horsemen 
were  converging,  growing  more  distinct ;  and  the  bluff 
was  still  a  mile  ahead.  He  was  stumbling  and  reeling, 
his  hat  fell  off,  and  he  dared  not  stop  to  pick  it  up. 

A  mile  was  covered ;  he  would  not  look  back  again, 
though  the  thud  of  hoofs  had  swelled  into  a  sharp 
staccato  drumming.  With  face  fiercely  set  and  the 
perspiration  dripping  from  him,  he  held  on,  scorched 
and  partly  dazzled  by  the  glare.  The  wood  was  get- 
ting closer;  he  thought  it  was  scarcely  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  off.  His  heart  throbbed  madly,  the  pain  in  his 
side  had  grown  excruciating;  but  somehow  he  must 
keep  going.  His  eyes  smarted  with  the  moisture  that 
ran  into  them,  his  lips  and  mouth  were  salty;  he  was 
suffering  torment ;  but  he  kept  on  his  feet. 

At  length,  when  the  trees  were  close  ahead,  a  faint 
smudge  of  smoke  appeared  on  the  edge  of  them;  there 
was  a  report  like  a  whipcrack,  and  he  stopped  in  de- 
spair. His  last  refuge  was  held  against  him.  Then, 
as  he  turned  in  savage  desperation  to  meet  the  rustlers' 
onslaught  with  the  ax,  he  saw  there  were  only  two 
horsemen,  who  pulled  up  suddenly,  about  sixty  yards 


THE  ESCAPE  347 

away.  The  third  was  not  visible,  but  his  horse,  which 
had  fallen,  was  struggling  in  the  grass.  As  the  mean- 
ing of  this  dawned  on  George  he  broke  in  a  wild, 
breathless  yell  of  exultation;  there  was  another  crack 
behind  him,  and  the  two  horsemen  wheeled.  They 
were  not  too  soon,  for  a  mounted  man  in  khaki  with 
something  that  flashed  across  his  saddle  was  riding 
hard  from  behind  the  bluff  to  cut  them  off.  Another 
appeared,  going  at  a  furious  gallop,  and  George  stood 
watching  while  the  four  figures  grew  smaller  upon 
the  prairie. 

Turning  at  a  shout  he  saw  Flett  and  Edgar  walking 
toward  him,  and  he  went  with  them  to  the  fallen 
horse.  A  man  lay,  gray  in  face,  among  the  grass,  held 
down  by  the  body  of  the  animal  which  partly  rested 
upon  him. 

"  Get  me  out,"  he  begged  hoarsely.     "  Leg's  broke." 

George  felt  incapable  of  helping.  He  sat  down 
while  the  other  two  extricated  the  man;  then  Flett 
placed  his  carbine  against  the  horse's  head,  and  after 
the  report  it  ceased  its  struggling. 

"  She  came  down  on  me  sudden ;  couldn't  get  my 
foot  clear  in  time,"  the  rustler  explained. 

"  You  had  to  be  stopped.  I  sighted  at  a  hundred ; 
a  quick  shot,"  Flett  remarked.  "  Is  there  anything 
else  the  matter  except  your  leg?  " 

"  I  guess  it's  enough,"  said  the  helpless  man. 

Flett  turned  to  George. 

"  Walk  into  the  bluff  and  you'll  strike  our  camp. 
West  must  stay  with  me  until  we  put  on  some  fixing 
that  will  hold  this  fellow's  leg  together." 

George  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  sat  down  again 
limply  when  he  reached  an  opening  in  the  wood  where 


348  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

a  pile  of  branches,  with  a  kettle  suspended  over  them, 
had  been  laid  ready  for  lighting.  Presently  the  others 
rejoined  him. 

"  The  fellow  can't  be  moved  until  we  get  a  wagon," 
said  Flett.  "  We've  been  looking  for  you  all  over  the 
country,  but  it  was  quite  a  while  before  we  got  a  hint 
that  sent  us  down  this  way.  We  had  stopped  in  the 
bluff  when  we  saw  a  fellow  running  with  three 
mounted  men  after  him,  and  we  lay  close,  expecting 
to  get  the  bunch.  It's  unfortunate  they  got  too  near 
you  and  I  had  to  shoot,  but  I  guess  the  boys  will  bring 
them  back." 

Edgar  looked  at  his  comrade  reproachfully. 

"If  you  could  only  have  sprinted  a  little  and  kept 
ahead,  we  would  either  have  outflanked  them  or  have 
had  the  finest  imaginable  ride  with  every  chance  of 
running  the  fellows  down.  As  things  turned  out,  I 
couldn't  go  off  with  the  troopers  until  I  found  that 
you  had  got  through  unhurt." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  George  told  him,  with  a  little  dry 
laugh.  "  But  I  don't  think  I  spared  any  effort  during 
the  last  quarter  of  a  mile." 

Then  he  related  his  adventures,  and  answered  a 
number  of  questions. 

"  You'll  take  my  horse,"  said  Flett,  "  and  start  for 
the  railroad  as  soon  as  you  feel  able.  Get  on  to  Re- 
gina  by  the  first  train ;  judging  by  the  last  wire  I  got. 
you'll  still  be  in  time.  West  had  better  go  with  you 
to  the  station,  and  he  can  send  a  wagon  for  the  man 
who's  hurt.  Now  I  guess  we'll  get  you  something  to 
eat." 

"  I  shouldn't  mind,"  said  George.     "  It's  twenty- 


THE  ESCAPE  349 

four  hours  since  my  last  meal,  and  that  one  was  re- 
markably small." 

He  drank  a  canful  of  cold  tea,  and  then  went  sud- 
denly to  sleep  while  the  others  lighted  the  fire. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE  REACTION 

THE  trial  at  Regina  proved  sensational.  Crimes 
attended  with  violence  were  not  unknown  in  the 
vicinity,  and  cattle  were  now  and  then  stolen  in  the 
neighboring  province  of  Alberta;  but  that  such  things 
as  the  prosecutor's  tale  revealed  should  happen  aroused 
wide-spread  astonishment  and  virtuous  indignation. 
Nevertheless,  they  were  proved,  for  Flett  had  pro- 
cured a  number  of  witnesses  and,  what  was  more, 
had  secured  their  attendance. 

In  addition  to  this,  other  offenses  were  hinted  at; 
the  doings  of  an  organized  gang  of  desperadoes  and 
their  accomplices  were  detailed,  and  facts  were  brought 
to  light  which  made  the  withdrawal  of  the  Sachem 
license  inevitable.  The  defense  took  strong  exception 
to  this  mode  of  procedure,  pointing  out  that  the  court 
was  only  concerned  with  a  specified  offense,  and  that 
it  was  not  permissible  to  drag  in  extraneous  and 
largely  supposititious  matter.  During  the  sweltering 
days  the  trial  lasted,  there  were  brisk  encounters  be- 
tween the  lawyers,  and  several  points  the  prosecution 
sought  to  prove  were  ruled  irrelevant.  As  a  climax, 
came  George's  story,  which  caused  a  sensation,  though 
the  close-packed  assembly  felt  that  he  scarcely  did 
justice  to  his  theme. 

In  concluding,  the  Crown  prosecutor  pointed  out 

350 


THE  REACTION  351 

how  rapidly  the  outbreaks  of  turbulent  lawlessness  had 
spread.  They  were  all,  he  contended,  connected  with 
and  leading  up  to  the  last  outrage,  of  which  the  men 
before  him  were  accused.  It  was  obvious  that  this 
unruliness  must  be  sternly  stamped  out  before  it  spread 
farther,  and  if  the  court  agreed  with  him  that  the 
charge  was  fully  proved,  he  must  press  for  a  drastic 
and  deterrent  penalty. 

The  odds  were  heavily  against  the  defense  from  the 
beginning.  The  credibility  of  Flett's  witnesses  could 
not  be  assailed,  and  cross-examination  only  threw  a 
more  favorable  light  upon  their  character.  Inside  the 
court,  and  out  of  it  as  the  newspapers  circulated,  Grant 
stood  revealed  as  a  fearless  citizen,  with  a  stern  sense 
of  his  duty  to  the  community;  George,  somewhat  to 
his  annoyance,  as  a  more  romantic  personage  of  the 
same  description,  and  Hardie,  who  had  been  brought 
in  to  prove  certain  points  against  which  the  defense 
protested,  as  one  who  had  fought  and  suffered  in  a 
righteous  cause. 

In  the  end,  the  three  prisoners  were  convicted,  and 
when  the  court  broke  up  the  police  applied  for  several 
fresh  warrants,  which  were  issued. 

As  George  was  walking  toward  his  hotel,  he  met 
Flett,  to  whom  he  had  not  spoken  since  they  separated 
in  the  bluff. 

"  I  was  waiting  for  you,"  said  the  constable.  "  I'm 
sorry  we'll  have  to  call  you  up  again  as  soon  as  the 
rustler's  leg  is  better.  He's  in  the  guard-room,  and 
the  boys  got  one  of  the  other  fellows ;  but  we  can  talk 
about  it  on  the  train.  I'm  going  back  to  my  post." 

George  arranged  to  meet  him,  and  they  were  sitting 
in  a  roomy  smoking  compartment  as  the  big  express 


352  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

sped  across  wide  gray  levels  and  past  vast  stretches 
of  ripening  grain,  when  the  next  allusion  was  made  to 
the  matter. 

"  I  suppose  you'll  be  sergeant  shortly,"  George  re- 
marked. 

"  Corporal  comes  first,"  said  Flett.  "  They  stick  to 
the  regular  rotation." 

"  That's  true,  but  they  seem  to  use  some  discretion 
in  exceptional  cases.  I  hardly  think  you'll  remain  a 
corporal." 

Flett's  eyes  twinkled. 

"  I  did  get  something  that  sounded  like  a  hint  I'll 
confess  that  I  felt  like  whooping  after  it." 

"  You  have  deserved  all  you'll  get,"  George  declared. 

They  spent  the  night  at  a  junction,  where  Flett  had 
some  business,  and  it  was  the  next  evening  when  the 
local  train  ran  into  Sage  Butte.  The  platform  was 
crowded  and  as  George  and  Flett  alighted,  there  was  a 
cheer  and,  somewhat  to  their  astonishment,  the  reeve 
of  the  town  advanced  to  meet  them. 

"  I'm  here  to  welcome  you  in  the  name  of  the  cit- 
izens of  the  Butte,"  he  said.  "We  have  to  request  the 
favor  of  your  company  at  supper  at  the  Queen's." 

"  It's  an  honor,"  George  responded.  "  I'm  sensible 
of  it;  but,  you  see,  I'm  in  a  hurry  to  get  back  to  work 
and  I  wired  for  a  team.  My  harvest  should  have  been 
started  a  week  ago." 

"  Don't  you  worry  'bout  that,"  said  the  reeve.  "  It 
wasn't  our  wish  that  you  should  suffer  through  dis- 
charging your  duty,  and  we  made  a  few  arrangements. 
Four  binders  have  been  working  steady  in  your  oats, 
and  if  you  don't  like  the  way  we  have  fixed  things,  you 
can  alter  them  to-morrow." 


THE  REACTION  353 

Then  West  touched  George's  arm. 

"  You'll  have  to  come.  They've  got  two  other  vic- 
tims —  Hardie  and  Grant  —  and  the  supper's  ready." 

The  reeve  looked  at  him  in  stern  rebuke. 

"  That  isn't  the  way  to  speak  of  this  function, 
Percy.  If  you  feel  like  a  victim,  you  can  drop  right 
out." 

George  was  touched  by  the  man's  intimation.  He 
expressed  his  satisfaction,  and  the  whole  assembly  es- 
corted him  to  the  hotel.  There  he  and  Grant  and 
Hardie  were  seated  at  the  top  of  a  long  table  near  the 
reeve,  who  made  a  short  opening  speech. 

"  Business  first,  and  then  the  supper,  boys,"  he  said. 
"  Corporal  Flett  can't  come ;  his  bosses  wouldn't  ap- 
prove of  it;  but  I'll  see  it  put  in  the  Sentinel  that  he 
was  asked,  and  we  won't  mind  if  that  has  some  effect 
on  them.  There's  another  thing  —  out  of  deference 
to  Mr.  Hardie  and  the  change  in  opinion  he  has  ably 
led  —  you'll  only  get  tea  and  coffee  at  this  entertain- 
ment. Those  who  haven't  signed  his  book,  must  hold 
out  until  it's  over." 

An  excellent  meal  had  been  finished  when  he  got  up 
again,  with  three  illuminated  strips  of  parchment  in 
his  hand. 

"  I'll  be  brief,  but  there's  something  to  be  said.  Our 
guests  have  set  us  an  example  which  won't  be  lost. 
They  saw  the  danger  of  letting  things  drift;  one  of 
them  warned  us  plainly,  although  to  do  so  needed  grit, 
and  some  of  us  rounded  on  him,  and  if  the  others 
didn't  talk,  it  was  because  that  wasn't  their  end  of  the 
job.  They  knew  their  duty  to  the  country  and  they 
did  it,  though  it  cost  them  something.  We  owe  it  to 
them  that  the  police  have  smashed  the  rustler 


354  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

and  that  from  now  on  no  small  homesteader  can  be 
bluffed  or  tempted  into  doing  what's  sure  to  bring  him 
into  trouble,  and  no  man  with  a  big  farm  need  fear  to 
let  his  cattle  run.  What's  more,  instead  of  a  haunt  of 
toughs  and  hobos,  we're  going  to  have  a  quiet  and 
prosperous  town.  I'm  now  proud  that  it's  my  duty  to 
hand  our  guests  the  assurance  of  our  grateful  appre- 
ciation. Corporal  Flett's  will  be  sent  on  to  him." 

He  handed  them  the  parchments,  and  George  felt 
inclined  to  blush  as  he  glanced  at  the  decorated  words 
of  eulogy;  while  a  half-ironical  twinkle  crept  into 
Grant's  eyes.  Then  Hardie  rose  to  reply,  and  faltered 
once  or  twice  with  a  sob  of  emotion  in  his  voice,  for 
the  testimonial  had  a  deeper  significance  to  him  than 
it  had  to  the  others.  His  audience,  however,  encour- 
aged him,  and  there  was  a  roar  of  applause  when  he  sat 
down.  Soon  after  that  the  gathering  broke  up. 

George  went  to  the  parlor,  which  served  as  writing- 
room,  and  found  Flora  there.  She  smiled  as  she  no- 
ticed the  end  of  the  parchment  sticking  out  of  his 
pocket. 

"  I  dare  say  you're  relieved  that  the  ceremony's 
over,"  she  said. 

"  It  was  a  little  trying,"  George  confessed.  "  I  was 
badly  afraid  I'd  have  to  make  a  speech,  but  luckily  we 
had  Hardie,  who  was  equal  to  the  task." 

"  After  all,  you  needn't  be  ashamed  of  the  testi- 
monial. I  really  think  you  deserved  it,  and  I  suppose 
I  must  congratulate  you  on  the  fortunate  end  of  your 
dramatic  adventures." 

George  stood  looking  at  her.  He  was  somewhat 
puzzled,  for  there  was  a  hint  of  light  mockery  in  her 
voice. 


THE  REACTION  355 

"  I'll  excuse  you  if  you  feel  that  it  requires  an  ef- 
fort," he  said. 

"  Oh,  you  have  had  so  much  applause  that  mine  can 
hardly  count." 

"  You  ought  to  know  that  it's  my  friends'  good  opin- 
ion I  really  value." 

Flora  changed  the  subject. 

"  You  will  be  driving  out  in  the  morning?  " 

"  I'm  starting  as  soon  as  Edgar  has  the  team  ready. 
There's  a  good  moon  and  I  must  get  to  work  the  first 
thing  to-morrow." 

The  girl's  face  hardened. 

"  You  seem  desperately  anxious  about  your  crop." 

"  I  think  that's  natural.  There's  a  good  deal  to  be 
done  and  I've  lost  some  time.  I  came  in  to  write  a 
note  before  I  see  what  Edgar's  doing." 

"  Then  I  mustn't  disturb  you,  and  it's  time  I  went 
over  to  Mrs.  Nelson's  —  she  expects  me  to  stay  the 
night.  I  was  merely  waiting  for  a  word  with  my 
father."  She  stopped  George,  who  had  meant  to  ac- 
company her.  "  No,  you  needn't  come  —  it's  only  a 
few  blocks  away.  Get  your  note  written." 

Seeing  that  she  did  not  desire  his  escort,  George  let 
her  go;  but  he  frowned  as  he  sat  down  and  took  out 
some  paper.  Soon  afterward  Edgar  came  in,  and  they 
drove  off  in  a  few  more  minutes. 

"  Did  you  see  Miss  Grant  ?  "  Edgar  asked  when  they 
were  jolting  down  the  rutted  trail. 

"  I  did,"  George  said  shortly. 

"  You  seem  disturbed  about  it." 

"  I  was  a  little  perplexed,"  George  owned. 
"  There  was  something  that  struck  me  as  different  in 
her  manner.  It  may  have  been  imagination,  but  I 


356  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

felt  she  wasn't  exactly  pleased  with  me.  I  can't  un- 
derstand how  I  have  offended  her." 

"  No,"  said  Edgar.  "  It  would  have  been  remark- 
able if  you  had  done  so.  I  suppose  you  told  her  you 
couldn't  rest  until  you  got  to  work  at  the  harvest?  " 

"  I  believe  I  said  something  of  the  kind.  What  has 
that  to  do  with  it?" 

"  It  isn't  very  obvious.  Perhaps  she  felt  tired  or 
moody ;  it  has  been  a  blazing  hot  day.  There's  every 
sign  of  its  being  the  same  to-morrow.  I  suppose 
you'll  make  a  start  after  breakfast?  " 

"  I'll  make  a  start  as  soon  as  it's  daylight,"  George 
told  him. 

He  kept  his  word,  and  for  the  next  few  weeks  toiled 
with  determined  energy  among  the  tall  white  oats  and 
the  coppery  ears  of  wheat.  It  was  fiercely  hot,  but 
from  sunrise  until  the  light  failed,  the  plodding  teams 
and  clinking  binders  moved  round  the  lessening 
squares  of  grain,  and  ranks  of  splendid  sheaves  length- 
ened fast  behind  them.  The  nights  were  getting 
sharp,  the  dawns  were  cold  and  clear,  and  George  rose 
each  morning,  aching  in  every  limb,  but  with  a  keen 
sense  of  satisfaction.  Each  day's  work  added  to  the 
store  of  money  he  would  shortly  hand  to  Sylvia.  He 
saw  little  of  Flora,  but  when  they  met  by  chance,  as 
happened  once  or  twice,  he  was  still  conscious  of  some- 
thing subtly  unfamiliar  in  her  manner.  He  felt  they 
were  no  longer  on  the  old  confidential  footing;  a 
stronger  barrier  of  reserve  had  risen  between  them. 

Before  the  last  sheaves  were  stacked,  the  days  were 
growing  cool.  The  fresh  western  breezes  had  died 
away,  and  a  faint  ethereal  haze  and  a  deep  stillness 
had  fallen  upon  the  prairie.  It  was  rudely  broken 


THE  REACTION  357 

when  the  thrashers  arrived  and  from  early  morning 
the  clatter  of  the  engine  filled  the  air  with  sound. 
Loaded  wagons  crashed  through  the  stubble,  the  voices 
of  dusty  men  mingled  with  the  rustle  of  the  sheaves, 
and  a  long  trail  of  sooty  smoke  stained  the  soft  blue  of 
the  sky. 

This  work  was  finished  in  turn,  and  day  by  day  the 
wagons,  loaded  high  with  bags  of  grain,  rolled  slowly 
across  the  broad  white  levels  toward  the  elevators. 
Many  a  tense  effort  was  needed  to  get  them  to  their 
destination,  for  the  trails  were  dry  and  loose;  but 
markets  were  strong,  and  George  had  decided  to  haul 
in  all  the  big  crop.  Sometimes,  though  the  nights 
were  frosty,  he  slept  beside  his  jaded  team  in  the  shel- 
ter of  a  bluff;  sometimes  he  spent  a  day  he  grudged 
laying  straw  on  a  road;  rest  for  more  than  three  or 
four  hours  was  unknown  to  him,  and  meals  were 
snatched  at  irregular  intervals  when  matters  of  more 
importance  were  less  pressing.  For  all  that,  he  was 
uniformly  cheerful;  the  work  brought  him  the  great- 
est pleasure  he  had  known,  and  he  had  grown  fond  of 
the  wide,  open  land,  in  which  he  had  once  looked  for- 
ward to  dwelling  with  misgivings.  The  freedom  of 
its  vast  spaces,  its  clear  air  and  its  bright  sunshine,  ap- 
pealed to  him,  and  he  began  to  realize  that  he  would 
be  sorry  to  leave  it,  which  he  must  shortly  do.  Sylvia, 
it  was  a  pity,  could  not  live  in  western  Canada. 

At  length,  on  a  frosty  evening,  he  saw  the  last  load 
vanish  into  the  dusty  elevator,  and  a  curious  feeling  of 
regret  crept  over  him.  It  was  very  doubtful  if  he 
would  haul  in  another  harvest,  and  he  wondered 
whether  the  time  would  now  and  then  hang  heavily 
on  his  hands  in  England.  There  was  a  roar  of  ma- 


358  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

chinery  above  him  in  the  tall  building  that  cut  sharply 
against  the  sky;  below,  long  rows  of  wagons  stood 
waiting  their  turn,  and  the  voices  of  the  teamsters, 
bantering  one  another,  struck  cheerfully  on  his  ears. 
Side-track  and  little  station  were  bathed  in  dazzling 
electric  glare,  two  locomotives  were  pushing  in  wheat 
cars,  and  lights  had  begun  to  glimmer  in  the  wooden 
houses  of  the  Butte,  though  all  round  there  was  the 
vast  sweep  of  prairie. 

There  was  a  touch  of  rawness  in  the  picture,  a  hint 
of  incompleteness,  with  a  promise  of  much  to  come. 
Sage  Butte  was,  perhaps,  a  trifle  barbarous;  but  its 
crude  frame  buildings  would  some  day  give  place  to 
more  imposing  piles  of  concrete  and  steel.  Its  in- 
habitants were  passing  through  a  transition  stage, 
showing  signs  at  times  of  the  primitive  strain,  but,  as  a 
rule,  reaching  out  eagerly  toward  what  was  new  and 
better.  They  would  make  swift  progress,  and  even 
now  he  liked  the. strenuous,  optimistic,  and  somewhat 
rugged  life  they  led;  he  reflected  that  he  would  find 
things  different  in  sheltered  England. 

After  giving  Grierson  a  few  instructions,  George 
turned  away.  His  work  was  done ;  instead  of  driving 
home  through  the  sharp  cold  of  the  night,  he  was  to 
spend  it  comfortably  at  the  hotel. 

A  week  later,  he  and  West  drove  over  to  the  Grant 
homestead  and  found  only  its  owner  in  the  general- 
room.  Grant  listened  with  a  rather  curious  expres- 
sion when  George  told  him  that  he  was  starting  for 
England  the  following  day;  and  then  they  quietly 
talked  over  the  arrangements  that  had  been  made  for 
carrying  on  the  farm  until  Edgar's  return,  for  George's 
future  movements  were  uncertain.  Edgar,  however, 


THE  REACTION  359 

was  sensible  of  a  constraint  in  the  farmer's  manner, 
which  was  presently  felt  by  George,  and  the  conversa- 
tion was  languishing  when  Flora  came  in.  Shortly 
afterward  George  said  that  they  must  go  and  Flora 
strolled  toward  the  fence  with  him  while  the  team  was 
being  harnessed. 

"  So  you  are  leaving  us  to-morrow  and  may  not 
come  back?  "  she  said,  in  an  indifferent  tone. 

"  I  can't  tell  what  I  shall  do  until  I  get  to  England." 

Flora  glanced  at  him  with  a  composure  that  cost  her 
an  effort.  She  supposed  his  decision  would  turn  upon 
Mrs.  Marston's  attitude,  but  she  knew  Sylvia  well, 
and  had  a  suspicion  that  there  was  a  disappointment  in 
store  for  Lansing.  Edgar  had  explained  that  he  was 
not  rich,  and  he  was  not  the  kind  of  man  Sylvia  was 
likely  to  regard  with  favor. 

"  Well,"  she  said  lightly,  "  when  I  came  in,  you 
really  didn't  look  as  cheerful  as  one  might  have  ex- 
pected. Are  you  sorry  you  are  going  away?  " 

"  It's  a  good  deal  harder  than  I  thought.  The  prai- 
rie seems  to  have  got  hold  of  me ;  I  have  good  friends 
here." 

"  Haven't  you  plenty  in  England?  " 

"  Acquaintances ;  only  a  few  friends.  I  can't  help 
regretting  those  I  must  leave  behind.  In  fact  " —  he 
spoke  impulsively,  expressing  a  thought  that  had 
haunted  him  — "  it  would  be  a  relief  if  I  knew  I  should 
come  back  again." 

"  After  all,  this  is  a  hard  country  and  we're  a  rather 
primitive  people." 

"  You're  reliable !  Staunch  friends,  determined 
enemies;  and  even  among  the  latter  I  found  a  kind  of 
sporting  feeling  which  made  it  a  little  easier  for  one 


360  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

to  forget  one's  injuries."  He  glanced  at  the  prairie 
which  stretched  away,  white  and  silent,  in  the  clear 
evening  light.  "  It's  irrational  in  a  way,  but  I'd  be 
glad  to  feel  I  was  going  to  work  as  usual  to-morrow." 

"  I  suppose  you  could  do  so,  if  you  really  wanted 
to,"  Flora  suggested. 

George  turned  and  looked  fixedly  at  her,  while  a 
mad  idea  crept  into  his  mind.  She  was  very  alluring; 
he  thought  he  knew  her  nature,  which  was  altogether 
wholesome,  and  it  flashed  upon  him  that  many  of  the 
excellent  qualities  she  possessed  were  lacking  in  Syl- 
via. Then  he  loyally  drove  out  the  temptation,  won- 
dering that  it  had  assailed  him,  though  he  was  still 
clearly  conscious  of  his  companion's  attractiveness. 

"  No,"  he  said  in  a  somewhat  strained  voice ;  "  I 
hardly  think  that's  possible.  I  must  go  back." 

Flora  smiled,  though  it  was  difficult.  She  half  be- 
lieved she  could  shake  the  man's  devotion  to  her  rival, 
but  she  was  too  proud  to  try.  If  he  came  to  her,  he 
must  come  willingly,  and  not  because  she  had  exerted 
her  utmost  power  to  draw  him. 

"  Well,"  she  responded,  "  one  could  consider  the 
reluctant  way  you  spoke  the  last  few  words  as  flatter- 
ing. I  suppose  it's  a  compliment  to  Canada  ?  " 

He  failed  to  understand  the  light  touch  of  mocking 
amusement  in  her  tone;  it  had  not  dawned  on  him 
that  this  was  her  defense. 

"  It's  a  compliment  to  the  Canadians,  though  my 
appreciation  can't  be  worth  very  much.  But  I  don't 
feel  in  a  mood  to  joke.  In  fact,  there's  a  feeling  of 
depression  abroad  to-night;  even  your  father  seems 
affected.  I'd  expected  a  pleasant  talk  with  him,  but 
we  were  very  dull." 


THE  REACTION  361 

"  What  made  you  think  he  was  less  cheerful  than 
usual?  "  Flora  cast  a  quick  and  rather  startled  glance 
at  him. 

"  I  don't  know,  but  something  seemed  wrong.  Ed- 
gar's the  only  one  who  looks  undisturbed,  and  if  he 
talks  much  going  home,  he'll  get  on  my  nerves." 

"  It's  hardly  fair  to  blame  him  for  a  depression 
that's  your  fault,"  said  Flora.  "  You  deserve  to  feel 
it,  since  you  will  go  away." 

Then  Edgar  came  up  with  the  wagon  and  George 
took  Flora's  hands. 

"  I  shall  think  of  you  often,"  he  told  her.  "  It  will 
always  be  with  pleasure.  Now  and  then  you  might, 
perhaps,  spare  a  thought  for  me." 

"  I  think  I  can  promise  that,"  Flora  replied  quietly. 

Then  he  shook  hands  with  Grant  and  got  into  the 
wagon.  Edgar  cracked  the  whip  and  the  team 
plunged  forward.  With  a  violent  jolting  and  a  rattle 
of  wheels  they  left  the  farm  behind  and  drove  out  on 
to  the  prairie.  Flora  stood  watching  them  for  a  while ; 
and  then  walked  back  to  the  house  in  the  gathering 
dusk  with  her  face  set  hard  and  a  pain  at  her  heart. 

Grant  was  sitting  on  the  stoop,  filling  his  pipe,  but 
when  she  joined  him  he  paused  in  his  occupation  and 
pointed  toward  the  plain.  The  wagon  was  scarcely 
discernible,  but  a  rhythmic  beat  of  hoofs  still  came 
back  through  the  stillness. 

"  I  like  that  man,  but  he's  a  blamed  fool,"  he  re- 
marked. 

Strong  bitterness  was  mingled  with  the  regret  in 
his  voice,  and  Flora  started.  She  was  glad  that  the 
light  was  too  dim  for  him  to  see  her  clearly. 

"  I  wonder  what  makes  you  say  that?  " 


362  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  For  one  thing,  he  might  have  done  well  here." 
Flora  suspected  that  her  father  was  not  expressing  all 
he  had  meant.  "  He's  the  kind  of  man  we  want ;  and 
now  he's  going  back  to  fool  his  life  away,  slouching 
round  playing  games  and  talking  to  idle  people,  in  the 
old  country.  Guess  some  girl  over  there  has  got  a 
hold  on  him."  Then  his  indignation  flamed  out  un- 
checked. "  I  never  could  stand  those  Percy  women, 
anyway;  saw  a  bunch  of  them,  all  dress  and  airs,  when 
I  was  last  in  Winnipeg.  One  was  standing  outside  a 
ticket-office  at  Portage,  studying  the  people  through 
an  eyeglass  on  an  ivory  stick,  as  if  they  were  some 
strange  savages,  and  making  remarks  about  them  to 
her  friends,  though  I  guess  there  isn't  a  young  woman 
in  the  city  with  nerve  enough  to  wear  the  clothes  she 
had  on.  It  makes  a  sensible  man  mighty  tired  to  hear 
those  creatures  talk." 

Flora  laughed,  rather  drearily,  though  she  guessed 
with  some  uneasiness  the  cause  of  her  father's  out- 
break. It  appeared  injudicious  to  offer  him  any  en- 
couragement. 

"  After  all,  one  must  be  fair,"  she  said.  "  I  met 
some  very  nice  people  in  the  old  country." 

He  turned  to  her  abruptly. 

"  Do  you  know  who  has  taken  Lansing  back?  "  he 
asked. 

"  I  believe,  from  something  West  said,  it  is  Mrs. 
Marston." 

"  That  trash ! "  Grant's  sharp  cry  expressed  in- 
credulity. "  The  man  can't  have  any  sense !  He's  go- 
ing to  be  sorry  all  the  time  if  he  gets  her." 

Then  he  knocked  out  his  pipe,  as  if  he  were  too  in- 
dignant to  smoke,  and  went  into  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

A    REVELATION 

was  a  winter  evening  and  Sylvia  was  standing 
near  the  hearth  in  Mrs.  Kettering's  hall,  where  the 
lamps  were  burning,  though  a  little  pale  daylight  still 
filtered  through  the  drizzle  outside.  Sylvia  was  fond 
of  warmth  and  brightness,  but  she  was  alone  except 
for  Ethel  West,  who  sat  writing  at  a  table  in  a  recess, 
although  her  hostess  had  other  guests,  including  a  few 
men  who  were  out  shooting.  After  a  while  Ethel 
looked  up. 

"  Have  you  or  Herbert  heard  anything  from  George 
during  the  last  few  weeks?  "  she  asked. 

Sylvia  turned  languidly.  Her  thoughts  had  been 
fixed  on  Captain  Bland,  whom  she  was  expecting  every 
moment.  Indeed,  she  was  anxious  to  get  rid  of  Ethel 
before  he  came  in. 

"  No,"  she  said  with  indifference.  "  I  think  his  last 
letter  came  a  month  ago.  It  was  optimistic." 

'*  They  seem  to  have  had  a  good  harvest  from  what 
Edgar  wrote;  he  hinted  that  he  might  make  a  trip 
across." 

"  It's  rather  an  expensive  journey." 

'  That  wouldn't  trouble  Edgar,  and  there's  a  reason 
for  the  visit.  He  has  made  up  his  mind  to  start  farm- 
ing and  wants  to  talk  over  his  plans.  In  fact,  he 
thinks  of  getting  married." 

363 


364  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Sylvia  showed  some  interest. 

"  To  whom?     Why  didn't  you  tell  me  earlier?  " 

"  I  only  arrived  this  morning,  and  I  wrote  some  time 
ago,  asking  if  you  could  meet  Stephen  and  me.  You 
were  with  the  Graysons  then,  but  you  didn't  answer." 

"  I  forgot ;  I  don't  always  answer  letters.  But  who 
is  the  girl?  Not  Miss  Grant?" 

"  Helen  Taunton.     Do  you  know  her?  " 

Sylvia  laughed. 

"  The  storekeeper's  daughter !  She's  passably  good- 
looking  and  her  father's  not  badly  off,  but  that's  about 
all  one  could  say  for  her." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  against  the  girl  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  "  said  Sylvia  languidly.  "  She's  quite 
respectable  —  in  fact,  they're  rather  a  straight-laced 
people;  and  she  doesn't  talk  badly.  For  all  that,  I 
think  you'll  get  a  shock  if  Edgar  brings  her  home." 

"  That  is  not  George's  opinion.     We  wrote  to  him." 

Sylvia  laughed. 

"  He  would  believe  in  anybody  who  looked  innocent 
and  pretty." 

Ethel's  expression  hardened;  Sylvia  had  not  been 
considerate. 

"  I  don't  think  that's  true.  He's  generous,  and 
though  he  has  made  mistakes,  it  was  only  because  his 
confidence  was  misled  with  a  highly  finished  skill. 
One  wouldn't  look  for  the  same  ability  in  a  girl 
brought  up  in  a  primitive  western  town." 

"  After  all,"  said  Sylvia  tranquilly,  "  she  is  a  girl, 
and  no  doubt  Edgar  is  worth  powder  and  shot  from 
her  point  of  view." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  to  be  a  commercial  one,"  Ethel 
retorted.  "  Stephen  had  a  very  straightforward  letter 


A  REVELATION  365 

from  this  storekeeper.  But  I'm  inclined  to  think  I  had 
better  go  on  with  my  writing." 

Sylvia  moved  away.  She  had  no  reason  for  being 
gracious  to  Ethel,  and  she  took  some  pleasure  in  irri- 
tating her. 

In  a  few  minutes  Bland  came  in.  The  hall  was 
large,  and  Ethel  was  hidden  from  him  in  the  recess. 
He  strode  toward  Sylvia  eagerly,  but  she  checked  him 
with  a  gesture. 

"  You  have  come  back  early,"  she  said.  "  Wasn't 
the  sport  good?  What  has  become  of  Kettering  and 
the  others  ?  " 

The  man  looked  a  little  surprised.  This  was  hardly 
the  greeting  he  had  expected,  after  having  been  prom- 
ised a  quiet  half-hour  with  Sylvia;  but,  looking  round, 
he  saw  the  skirt  of  Ethel's  dress  and  understood.  Had 
it  been  George  she  wished  to  warn,  she  would  have 
used  different  means;  but  Bland,  she  was  thankful, 
was  not  hypercritical. 

"  The  sport  was  poor,"  he  told  her.  "  The  pheas- 
ants aren't  very  strong  yet,  and  it  was  hard  to  drive 
them  out  of  the  covers.  As  I'd  only  a  light  water- 
proof, I  got  rather  wet  outside  the  last  wood  and  I 
left  the  others.  Kettering  wanted  to  see  the  keeper 
about  to-morrow's  beat,  but  I  didn't  wait." 

"  Since  you  have  been  in  the  rain  all  day,  you  had 
better  have  some  tea,"  said  Sylvia.  "  They'll  bring  it 
here,  if  you  ring." 

He  followed  her  to  a  small  table  across  the  hall, 
and  after  a  tray  had  been  set  before  them  they  sat 
talking  in  low  voices.  Presently  Bland  laid  his  hand 
on  Sylvia's  arm.  ,  ' 

"  You  know  why  I  came  down,"  he  said.     "  I  must 


366  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

go  back  to-morrow  and  I  want  the  announcement  made 
before  I  leave." 

Sylvia  blushed  and  lowered  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  conceded,  "  you  have  really  been 
very  patient,  and  perhaps  it  would  be  hardly  fair  to 
make  you  wait  any  longer." 

Bland  took  her  hand  and  held  it  fast. 

"  You  are  worth  waiting  for !  But  there  were  times 
when  it  was  very  hard  not  to  rebel.  I'd  have  done  so, 
only  I  was  afraid." 

"  You  did  rebel." 

"  Not  to  much  purpose.  Though  no  one  would  sus- 
pect it  from  your  looks,  you're  a  very  determined  per- 
son, Sylvia.  Now  I  don't  know  how  to  express  my 
feelings ;  I  want  to  do  something  dramatic,  even  if  it's 
absurd,  and  I  can't  even  speak  aloud.  Couldn't  you 
have  got  rid  of  Miss  West  by  some  means  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  tell  what  you  wished  to  say  ?  "  Syl- 
via asked  with  a  shy  smile.  "  Besides,  Ethel  wouldn't 
go.  She  stuck  there  in  the  most  determined  fashion !  " 

"  Then  we'll  have  to  disregard  her.  It  must  be 
early  next  year,  Sylvia.  I'll  see  Lansing  to-morrow." 

He  continued  in  a  quietly  exultant  strain,  and  Syl- 
via felt  relieved  that  her  fate  was  decided.  She  had 
some  time  ago  led  him  to  believe  she  would  marry  him  ; 
but  she  had,  with  vague  misgivings  and  prompted  by 
half -understood  reasons,  put  off  a  definite  engagement. 
Now  she  had  given  her  pledge,  and  though  she  thought 
of  George  with  faint  regret,  she  was  on  the  whole  con- 
scious of  satisfaction.  Bland,  she  believed,  had  a 
good  deal  to  offer  her  which  she  could  not  have  en- 
joyed with  his  rival. 

Presently  a  servant  brought  Ethel  something  on  a 


A  REVELATION  367 

salver,  and  a  few  moments  later  she  approached  the 
other  two  with  a  telegram  in  her  hand. 

"  I  thought  I  had  better  tell  you,  Sylvia,"  she  ex- 
plained. "  Stephen  has  just  got  a  letter  from  Edgar, 
written  a  day  or  two  before  he  sailed.  He  should  ar- 
rive on  Saturday,  and  George  is  with  him." 

Sylvia  had  not  expected  this  and  she  was  off  her 
guard.  She  started,  and  sat  looking  at  Ethel  incredu- 
lously, with  something  like  consternation. 

"It's  quite  true,"  said  Ethel  bluntly.  "He'll  be 
here  in  three  more  days." 

Then  Sylvia  recovered  her  composure. 

"  In  that  case,  I'll  have  to  let  Muriel  know  at  once ; 
he'll  go  straight  there,  and  she's  staying  with  Lucy. 
Perhaps  I  had  better  telegraph." 

She  rose  and  left  them;  and  Bland  sought  Mrs.  Ket- 
tering  and  acquainted  her  of  his  engagement,  and 
begged  her  to  make  it  known,  which  she  promised  to 
do.  He  failed  to  find  Sylvia  until  she  was  coming 
down  to  dinner,  when  she  beckoned  him. 

"  Have  you  told  Susan  yet  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  Bland  beamed;  "I  told  her  at  once.  I 
should  have  liked  to  go  about  proclaiming  the  delight- 
ful news!" 

Sylvia  looked  disturbed;  Bland  could  almost  have 
fancied  she  was  angry.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  troubled 
thoughts  were  flying  through  her  mind.  It  was  ob- 
vious that  she  would  shortly  be  called  upon  to  face  a 
crisis. 

"  After  all,"  she  said,  with  an  air  of  resignation 
which  struck  him  as  out  of  place,  ''  I  suppose  you  had 
to  do  so;  but  you  lost  no  time." 

"Not    a   moment!"    he    assured   her.     "I    felt   I 


368  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

couldn't  neglect  anything  that  brought  you  nearer  to 
me." 

Then  they  went  on,  and  meeting  the  other  guests  in 
the  hall,  Sylvia  acknowledged  the  shower  of  congratu- 
lations with  a  smiling  face.  She  escaped  after  dinner, 
however,  without  a  sign  to  Bland,  and  did  not  reap- 
pear. During  the  evening,  he  found  Ethel  West  sit- 
ting alone  in  a  quiet  nook. 

"  Mrs.  Marston  seemed  a  little  disturbed  at  the  news 
you  gave  her,"  he  remarked. 

"So  I  thought,"  said  Ethel. 

"  I  suppose  the  George  you  mentioned  is  her  trustee, 
who  went  to  Canada  and  took  your  brother?  You 
once  told  me  something  about  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ethel.  "  You  seem  to  have  the  gift  of 
arriving  at  correct  conclusions." 

"  He's  an  elderly  man  —  a  business  man  of  his 
cousin's  stamp  —  I  presume?" 

Ethel  laughed. 

"  Oh,  no ;  they're  of  very  different  type.  I  should 
imagine  that  he's  younger  than  you  are.  He  was  at 
Herbert's  one  afternoon  when  you  called." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Bland.  "  I  shall,  no  doubt,  get  to  know 
him  when  next  I  come  down." 

Then  he  talked  about  other  matters  until  he  left 
her,  and  after  a  while  he  found  Kettering  alone. 

"  Did  you  ever  meet  George  Lansing?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  his  host.  "  I  know  his  cousin  bet- 
ter." 

"  He  has  been  out  in  Canada,  hasn't  he?  " 

"  Yes ;  went  out  to  look  after  Mrs.  Marston's  prop- 
erty. I  understand  he  has  been  more  or  less  success- 
ful." 


A  REVELATION  369 

"  When  did  he  leave  England  ?  " 

Kettering  told  him,  and  Bland  considered. 

"  So  Lansing  has  been  out,  and  no  doubt  going  to  a 
good  deal  of  trouble,  for  two  years,"  he  said.  "  That's 
something  beyond  an  ordinary  executor's  duty.  What 
made  him  undertake  it  ?  " 

Kettering  smiled. 

"  It's  an  open  secret  —  you're  bound  to  hear  it  • — 
that  he  had  an  admiration  for  Sylvia.  Still,  there's 
no  ground  for  jealousy.  Lansing  hadn't  a  chance 
from  the  beginning." 

Bland  concealed  his  feelings. 

"  How  is  that  ?  He  must  be  an  unusually  good  fel- 
low if  he  stayed  out  there  to  look  after  things  so  long." 

"  For  one  reason,  he's  not  Sylvia's  kind.  It  was 
quite  out  of  the  question  that  she  should  ever  have  mar- 
ried him." 

Feeling  that  he  had,  perhaps,  said  too  much,  Ket- 
tering began  to  talk  of  the  next  day's  sport ;  and  soon 
a'fterward  Bland  left  him  and  went  out  on  the  terrace 
to  smoke  and  ponder.  Putting  what  he  had  learned 
together,  he  thought  he  understood  the  situation,  and 
it  was  not  a  pleasant  one,  though  he  was  not  very  in- 
dignant with  Sylvia.  It  looked  as  if  she  made  an  un- 
fair use  of  Lansing's  regard  for  her,  unless,  in  spite 
of  Kettering's  opinion,  she  had  until  lately  been  unde- 
cided how  to  choose  between  them.  Nevertheless, 
Bland  could  not  feel  that  he  had  now  been  rudely  un- 
deceived, for  he  had  always  recognized  some  of  Syl- 
via's failings.  He  did  not  expect  perfection;  and  he 
could  be  generous,  when  he  had  won. 

He  asked  Sylvia  no  injudicious  questions  when  they 
met  the  next  morning,  and  during  the  day  he  called  on 


370  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Herbert  Lansing,  who  was  back  in  his  office.  The 
latter  heard  him  explain  his  errand  with  somewhat 
mixed  feelings,  for  there  were  certain  rather  trouble- 
some facts  that  must  be  mentioned. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  have,  of  course,  no  objections 
to  make;  but,  as  one  of  her  trustees,  it's  my  duty  to 
look  after  Sylvia's  interests.  As  you  know,  she  is  not 
rich." 

"  I  suppose  these  points  must  be  talked  over,"  Bland 
said,  with  indifference. 

"  It's  usual,  and  in  the  present  case,  necessary. 
What  provision  are  you  able  to  make  ?  " 

Bland  looked  a  little  uncomfortable.  "  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  I'd  find  it  difficult  to  make  any  provision. 
I  get  along  fairly  well,  as  it  is,  but  I've  only  about  four 
hundred  a  year  besides  my  pay." 

"  How  far  does  your  pay  go?  "  Herbert  asked  dryly. 

"  It  covers  my  mess  bills  and  a  few  expenses  of  that 
nature." 

Herbert  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a  smile. 

"  Hasn't  it  struck  you  that  you  should  have  chosen 
a  wife  with  money?  " 

"  Now,"  said  Bland  rather  sternly,  "  I  don't  want  to 
lie  open  to  any  misconception,  but  I  understood  that 
Mrs.  Marston  had  some  means.  I'm  quite  prepared 
to  hear  they're  small." 

(<  That's  fortunate,  because  it  may  save  you  a  shock. 
Sylvia  owns  a  farm  in  Canada,  which  did  not  repay 
the  cost  of  working  it  last  year.  During  the  present 
one  there  has  been  an  improvement,  and  we  expect  a 
small  surplus  on  the  two  years'  operations.  The  place 
has  been  valued  at  —  but  perhaps  I  had  better  give 
you  a  few  figures,  showing  you  how  matters  stand." 


A  REVELATION  371 

Opening  a  drawer,  he  handed  a  paper  to  Bland,  who 
studied  it  with  a  sense  of  dismay. 

"  I'll  confess  that  this  is  an  unpleasant  surprise,"  he 
said  at  length;  and  then,  while  Herbert  waited,  he 
pulled  himself  together  with  a  laugh.  "  After  that 
admission,  I  must  add  that  the  mistake  is  the  result  of 
my  having  a  sanguine  imagination;  Sylvia  scarcely 
mentioned  her  Canadian  property.  Now,  however, 
there's  only  one  thing  to  be  done  —  to  face  the  situa- 
tion as  cheerfully  as  possible." 

"  It  can't  be  an  altogether  attractive  one."  Herbert 
admired  his  courage  and  the  attitude  he  had  adopted. 

"  I  shall  certainly  have  to  economize,"  Bland  ad- 
mitted ;  "  and  that  is  a  thing  I'm  not  accustomed  to ; 
but  I  may  get  some  appointment,  and  by  and  by  a  small 
share  in  some  family  property  will  revert  to  me. 
Though  I  must  go  straight  back  to  my  garrison  duties 
now,  I'll  come  down  for  an  hour  or  two  and  explain 
things  to  Sylvia,  as  soon  as  I  can."  He  paused  and 
broke  into  a  faint  smile.  "  I  dare  say  the  surprise  will 
be  mutual;  she  may  have  believed  my  means  to  be 
larger  than  they  are." 

"  I  should  consider  it  very  possible,"  replied  Her- 
bert dryly.  "  As  I  must  see  Sylvia,  I'll  give  her  an 
idea  how  matters  stand  and  clear  the  ground  for  you." 

Bland  said  that  he  would  be  glad  of  this;  and  after 
some  further  conversation  he  took  his  leave  and  walked 
to  the  station,  disturbed  in  mind,  but  conscious  of  a 
little  ironical  amusement.  There  was  no  doubt  that 
Sylvia  had  cleverly  deluded  him,  but  he  admitted  that 
he  had  done  much  the  same  thing  to  her.  Had  he 
realized  the  true  state  of  her  affairs  at  the  beginning 
he  would  have  withdrawn ;  but  he  had  no  thought  of 


372  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

doing  so  now.  It  was  obvious  that  Sylvia's  princi- 
ples were  not  very  high,  and  he  regretted  it,  although 
he  could  not  claim  much  superiority  in  this  respect. 
He  was  tolerant  and,  after  all,  she  had  a  charm  that 
atoned  for  many  failings. 

It  was  three  or  four  days  later  when  he  arrived  at 
Mrs.  Kettering's  house  one  evening  and  found  Sylvia 
awaiting  him  in  a  room  reserved  for  her  hostess's  use. 
She  was  very  becomingly  dressed  and  looked,  he 
thought,  even  more  attractive  than  usual.  She  sub- 
mitted to  his  caress  with  an  air  of  resignation,  but  he 
augured  a  good  deal  from  the  fact  that  she  did  not 
repulse  him.  As  it  happened,  Sylvia  had  carefully 
thought  over  the  situation. 

"  Sit  down,"  she  said ;  "  I  want  to  talk  with  you." 

"  I  think  I'll  stand.  It's  more  difficult  to  feel  peni- 
tent in  a  comfortable  position.  It  looks  as  if  you  had 
seen  Herbert  Lansing." 

"  I  have."  Sylvia's  tone  was  harsh.  "  What  have 
you  to  say  for  yourself?" 

"  Not  a  great  deal,  which  is  fortunate,  because  I 
haven't  much  time  to  say  it  in,"  Bland  told  her  with  a 
smile.  "  To  begin  with,  I'll  state  the  unflattering 
truth  —  it  strikes  me  that,  in  one  way,  we're  each  as 
bad  as  the  other.  I  suppose  it's  one  of  my  privileges 
to  mention  such  facts  to  you,  though  I'd  never  think  of 
admitting  them  to  anybody  else." 

"  It's  a  husband's  privilege,"  Sylvia  rejoined  point- 
edly. "  Don't  be  premature." 

"  Well,"  said  Bland,  "  I  can  only  make  one  defense, 
but  I  think  you  ought  to  realize  how  strong  it  is.  We 
were  thrown  into  each  other's  society,  and  it  isn't  in 
the  least  surprising  that  I  lost  my  head  and  was  carried 


A  REVELATION  373 

away.     My  power  of  reasoning  went  when  I  fell  in 
love  with  you." 

"  That  sounds  pretty,  but  it's  unfortunate  you  didn't 
think  of  me  a  little  more,"  pouted  Sylvia. 

"  Think  of  you  ?  "  Bland  broke  out.  "  I  thought  of 
nothing  else !  " 

"  Then  it  wasn't  to  much  purpose.  Don't  you  see 
what  you  want  to  bring  me  to?  Can't  you  realize 
what  I  should  have  to  give  up?  How  could  we  ever 
manage  on  the  little  we  have?  " 

The  man  frowned.  He  was  sorry  for  her  and 
somewhat  ashamed,  but  she  jarred  on  him  in  her  pres- 
ent mood. 

"  I  believe  people  who  were  sufficiently  fond  of  each 
other  have  often^ot  along  pretty  satisfactorily  on  less, 
even  in  the  Service.  It's  a  matter  of  keen  regret  to 
me  that  you  will  have  to  make  a  sacrifice,  but  things 
are  not  quite  so  bad  as  they  look,  and  there's  reason 
for  believing  they  may  get  better.  You  will  have  as 
pleasant  society  as  you  enjoy  now;  my  friends  will 
stand  by  my  wife."  A  look  of  pride  crept  into  his 
face.  "  I  dare  say  they  have  their  failings,  but  they'll 
only  expect  charm  from  you,  and  you  can  give  it  to 
them.  They  won't  value  you  by  the  display  you  make 
or  your  possessions.  We're  free  from  that  taint." 

"  But  have  you  considered  what  you  must  give  up  ?  " 

Bland  had  hardly  expected  this,  but  he  smiled. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  spent  an  evening  over  it  and  I  was  a 
little  surprised  to  find  how  many  things  there  were  I 
could  readily  do  without.  In  fact,  it  was  a  most  in- 
structive evening.  The  next  day  I  wrote  a  bundle 
of  letters,  resigning  from  clubs  I  rarely  went  to,  and 
canceling  orders  for  odds  and  ends  I  hadn't  the  least 


374  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

real  use  for.  But  I'll  confess  that  I've  derived  a  good 
deal  more  pleasure  from  thinking  of  how  much  I  shall 
get." 

Sylvia  was  touched,  but  she  did  not  mean  to  yield 
too  readily. 

"  It  would  be  dreadfully  imprudent." 

"  Just  so ;  one  has  often  to  take  a  risk.  It's  rather 
exciting  to  fling  prudence  overboard.  I  want  to  fix 
my  whole  attention  on  the  fact  that  we  love  each 
other ! "  Bland  glanced  at  his  watch.  "  Now  it 
strikes  me  that  we  have  been  sufficiently  practical,  and 
as  I  must  start  back  to-night,  I  haven't  much  time  left. 
Don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  pity  to  waste  it  ?  " 

He  drew  her  down  beside  him  on  a  lounge  and  Syl- 
via surrendered.  After  all,  the  man  had  made  a  good 
defense  and,  as  far  as  her  nature  permitted,  she  had 
grown  fond  of  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

GEORGE    MAKES    UP   HIS   MIND 

was  closing  in  when  George  and  Edgar 
alighted  at  a  little  English  station.  Casting  an 
eager  glance  about,  George  was  disappointed  to  see 
nobody  from  his  cousin's  house  waiting  to  meet  him. 
In  another  moment,  however,  he  was  warmly  greeted 
by  Ethel  West. 

"  A  very  hearty  welcome,  George,"  she  said. 
"  You're  looking  very  fit,  but  thinner  than  you  were 
when  you  left  us.  Stephen's  waiting  outside.  He 
told  Muriel  we  would  drive  you  over;  Herbert's  away 
somewhere." 

"  How's  everybody  ?  "  George  inquired. 

"  Sylvia  looked  as  charming  as  ever  when  I  last  saw 
her  a  few  days  ago,"  Ethel  answered  with  a  smile, 
which  George  was  too  eager  to  notice  was  somewhat 
forced.  "  The  rest  of  us  are  much  as  usual.  But 
come  along;  we'll  send  over  afterward  for  your  heavy 
things." 

They  turned  toward  the  outlet,  and  found  Stephen 
having  some  trouble  with  a  horse  that  was  startled  by 
the  roar  of  steam.  Edgar  got  up  in  front  of  the  high 
trap,  George  helped  Ethel  to  the  seat  behind,  and  they 
set  off  the  next  moment,  flying  down  the  wet  road 
amid  a  cheerful  hammer  of  hoofs  and  a  rattle  of 
wheels.  For  the  first  few  minutes  George  said  little 

375 


376  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

as  he  looked  about.  On  one  side  great  oaks  and  ashes 
raised  their  naked  boughs  in  sharp  tracery  against  the 
pale  saffron  glow  in  the  western  sky.  Ahead,  across 
a  deep  valley,  which  was  streaked  with  trains  of  mist, 
wide  moors  and  hills  rolled  away,  gray  and  darkly  blue. 
Down  the  long  slope  to  the  hollow  ran  small  fields  with 
great  trees  breaking  the  lines  of  hedgerows;  and  the 
brawling  of  a  river  swollen  by  recent  rain  came  sharply 
up  to  him. 

It  was  all  good  to  look  upon,  a  beautiful,  well-cared- 
for  land,  and  he  felt  a  thrill  of  pride  and  satisfaction. 
This  was  home,  and  he  had  come  back  to  it  with  his 
work  done.  A  roseate  future  stretched  away  before 
him,  its  peaceful  duties  brightened  by  love,  and  the 
contrast  between  it  and  the  stress  and  struggle  of  the 
past  two  years  added  to  its  charm.  Still,  to  his  as- 
tonishment, he  thought  of  the  sterner  and  more  strenu- 
ous life  he  had  led  on  the  western  plains  with  a  faint, 
half-tender  regret. 

By  and  by  Edgar's  laugh  rang  out. 

"  The  change  in  my  brother  is  remarkable,"  Ethel 
declared.  "  It  was  a  very  happy  thought  that  made 
us  let  him  go  with  you." 

"  I'm  not  responsible,"  George  rejoined.  "  You 
have  the  country  to  thank.  In  some  way,  it's  a  hard 
land ;  but  it's  a  good  one." 

"  Perhaps  something  is  due  to  Miss  Taunton's  in- 
fluence." 

Edgar  leaned  over  the  back  of  the  seat. 

"  That,"  he  said,  "  is  a  subject  of  which  I've  a  mo- 
nopoly; and  I've  volumes  to  say  upon  it  as  soon  as 
there's  a  chance  of  doing  it  justice.  George,  I  hear 
that  Singleton,  who  told  us  about  the  wheat,  is  home 


GEORGE  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND     377 

on  a  visit.  Stephen  has  asked  him  over;  you  must 
meet  him." 

George  said  he  would  be  glad  to  do  so,  and  turned 
to  Ethel  when  Edgar  resumed  his  conversation  with  his 
brother. 

"  I  wired  Herbert  to  have  everything  ready  at  my 
place,  though  I  shall  spend  the  night  at  Brantholme." 

"  The  Lodge  is  let.     Didn't  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  understood  that  the  man's  tenancy  ran  out  a  few 
weeks  ago." 

"  He  renewed  it.  Herbert  didn't  know  you  were 
coming  over ;  the  terms  were  good." 

"  Then  I'm  homeless  for  a  time." 

"  Oh,  no !  "  said  Ethel.  "  Stephen  wanted  me  to  in- 
sist on  your  coming  with  us  now,  but  I  know  you  will 
want  to  see  Muriel  and  have  a  talk  with  her.  How- 
ever, we'll  expect  you  to  come  and  take  up  your  quar- 
ters with  us  to-morrow." 

George  looked  at  her  in  some  surprise. 

"  I'd  be  delighted,  but  Herbert  will  expect  me  to 
stay  with  him,  and,  of  course — " 

"Sylvia  hadn't  arrived  this  afternoon;  she  was  at 
Mrs.  Kettering's,"  Ethel  told  him.  "  But  remember 
that  you  must  stay  with  us  until  you  make  your  ar- 
rangements. We  should  find  it  hard  to  forgive  you 
if  you  went  to  anybody  else." 

"  I  wouldn't  think  of  it,  only  that  Herbert's  the  ob- 
vious person  to  entertain  me,"  George  replied,  though 
he  was  a  little  puzzled  by  the  insistence,  and  Ethel 
abruptly  began  to  talk  of  something  else. 

Darkness  came,  but  there  were  gleams  of  cheerful 
light  from  roadside  cottages,  and  George  found  the 
fresh  moist  air  and  the  shadowy  woods  they  skirte(| 


378  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

pleasantly  familiar.  This  was  the  quiet  English 
countryside  he  loved,  and  a  sense  of  deep  and  tranquil 
content  possessed  him.  He  failed  to  notice  that  Ethel 
cleverly  avoided  answering  some  of  his  questions  and 
talked  rather  more  than  usual  about  matters  of  small 
importance.  At  length  they  reached  the  Brantholme 
gates,  and  Stephen  looked  down  as  George  alighted. 

"  We'll  expect  you  over  shortly ;  I'll  send  for  your 
baggage,"  he  said  as  he  drove  off. 

George,  to  his  keen  disappointment,  found  only  Mrs. 
Lansing  waiting  for  him  in  the  hall,  though  she  re- 
ceived him  very  cordially. 

"  Herbert  had  to  go  up  to  London ;  he  didn't  get 
your  wire  in  time  to  put  off  the  journey,"  she  ex- 
plained. "  I'm  sorry  he  can't  be  back  for  a  few  days." 

"  It  doesn't  matter ;  he  has  to  attend  to  his  business," 
George  rejoined.  "  But  where's  Sylvia?  " 

"  She  hasn't  come  back  from  Susan's,"  said  Mrs. 
Lansing,  quickly  changing  the  subject  and  explaining 
why  Herbert  had  re-let  the  Lodge.  After  that,  she 
asked  George  questions  until  she  sent  him  off  to  pre- 
pare for  dinner. 

George  was  perplexed  as  well  as  disappointed. 
Neither  Ethel  nor  Muriel  seemed  inclined  to  speak 
about  Sylvia  —  it  looked  as  if  they  had  some  reason 
for  avoiding  any  reference  to  her;  but  he  assured  him- 
self that  this  was  imagination,  and  during  dinner  he 
confined  his  inquiries  to  other  friends.  When  it  was 
over  and  Muriel  led  him  into  the  drawing-room,  his 
uneasiness  grew  more  keen. 

"  Herbert  thought  you  would  like  to  know  as  soon 
as  possible  how  things  were  going,"  Muriel  said,  as  she 
took  a  big  envelope  from  a  drawer  and  gave  it  to  him. 


GEORGE  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND     379 

"  He  told  me  this  was  a  rough  statement  of  your  busi- 
ness affairs." 

"  Thanks,"  said  George,  thrusting  it  carelessly  into 
his  pocket.  "  I  must  study  it  sometime.  But  I've 
been  looking  forward  all  day  to  meeting  Sylvia. 
Wouldn't  Susan  let  her  come?  " 

Mrs.  Lansing  hesitated,  and  then,  leaning  forward, 
laid  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

"  I've  kept  it  back  a  little,  George ;  but  you  must  be 
told.  I'm  afraid  it  will  be  a  shock  —  Sylvia  is  to 
marry  Captain  Bland  in  the  next  few  weeks." 

George  rose  and  turned  rather  gray  in  the  face,  as 
he  leaned  on  the  back  of  a  chair. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "  there's  no  doubt  of 
this?" 

"  It's  all  arranged."  Mrs.  Lansing  made  a  compas- 
sionate gesture.  "  I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am, 
or  how  hateful  it  was  to  have  to  give  you  such  news." 

"  I  can  understand  why  Sylvia  preferred  to  leave  it 
to  you,"  he  said  slowly.  "  How  long  has  this  matter 
been  going  on  ?  " 

Mrs.  Lansing's  eyes  sparkled  with  anger. 

"  I  believe  it  began  soon  after  you  left.  I  don't 
know  whether  Sylvia  expects  me  to  make  excuses  for 
her,  but  I  won't  do  anything  of  the  kind;  there  are 
none  that  could  be  made.  She  has  behaved  shame- 
fully!" 

"  One  must  be  just,"  George  said  with  an  effort. 
"  After  all,  she  promised  me  nothing." 

"  Perhaps  not  in  so  many  words.  But  she  knew 
what  you  expected,  and  I  have  no  doubt  she  led  you  to 
believe  — " 

George  raised  his  hand. 


380  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  think  there's  nothing  to  be  said  —  the  thing 
must  be  faced  somehow.  I  feel  rather  badly  hit ;  you 
won't  mind  if  I  go  out  and  walk  about  a  little?  " 

Mrs.  Lansing  was  glad  to  let  him  go;  the  sight  of 
his  hard-set  face  hurt  her.  In  another  minute  he  was 
walking  up  and  down  the  terrace,  but  he  stopped  pres- 
ently and  leaned  on  the  low  wall.  Hitherto  he  had 
believed  in  Sylvia  with  an  unshaken  faith,  but  now  a 
flood  of  suspicion  poured  in  on  him;  above  all,  there 
was  the  telling  fact  that  as  soon  as  he  had  gone,  she 
had  begun  to  lead  on  his  rival.  The  shock  he  had  suf- 
fered had  brought  George  illumination.  Sylvia  could 
never  have  had  an  atom  of  affection  for  him;  she  had 
merely  made  his  loyalty  serve  her  turn.  She  had  done 
so  even  before  she  married  Dick  Marston;  though  he 
had  somehow  retained  his  confidence  in  her  then.  He 
had  been  a  fool  from  the  beginning! 

The  intense  bitterness  of  which  he  was  conscious 
was  wholly  new  to  him,  but  it  was  comprehensible. 
Just  in  all  his  dealings,  he  expected  honesty  from 
others,  and,  though  generous  in  many  ways,  he  had 
not  Eland's  tolerant  nature;  he  looked  for  more  than 
the  latter  and  had  less  charity.  There  was  a  vein  of 
hardness  in  the  man  who  had  loved  Sylvia  largely  be- 
cause he  believed  in  her.  Trickery  and  falseness  were 
abhorrent  to  him,  and  now  the  woman  he  had  wor- 
shiped stood  revealed  in*  her  deterrent  reality. 

After  a  while  he  pulled  himself  together,  and,  going 
back  to  the  house,  entered  Herbert's  library  where, 
less  because  of  his  interest  in  the  matter  than  as  a  re- 
lief from  painful  thoughts,  he  opened  the  envelope 
given  him  and  took  out  the  statement.  For  a  few  mo- 
ments the  figures  puzzled  him,  and  then  he  broke  into 


GEORGE  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND     381 

a  bitter  laugh.     The  money  that  he  had  entrusted  to  his 
cousin's  care  had  melted  away. 

During  the  next  two  or  three  minutes  he  leaned 
back,  motionless,  in  his  chair ;  then  he  took  up  a  pencil 
and  lighted  a  cigar.  Since  he  was  ruined,  he  might  as 
well  ascertain  how  it  had  happened,  and  two  facts  be- 
came obvious  from  his  study  of  the  document :  Her- 
bert had  sold  sound  securities,  and  had  mortgaged 
land ;  and  then  placed  the  proceeds  in  rubber  shares. 
This  was  perhaps  permissible,  but  it  did  not  explain 
what  had  induced  an  astute  business  man  to  hold  the 
shares  until  they  had  fallen  to  their  remarkably  low 
value.  There  was  a  mystery  here,  and  George  in  his 
present  mood  was  keenly  suspicious.  He  had  no  doubt 
that  Herbert  had  left  the  statement  because  it  would 
save  him  the  unpleasantness  of  giving  a  personal  ex- 
planation; moreover,  George  believed  that  he  had  left 
home  with  that  purpose.  Then  he  made  a  few  rough 
calculations,  which  seemed  to  prove  that  enough  re- 
mained to  buy  and  stock  a  farm  in  western  Canada. 
This  was  something,  though  it  did  not  strike  him  as  a 
matter  of  much  consequence,  and  he  listlessly  smoked 
out  his  cigar.  Then  he  rose  and  rejoined  Mrs.  Lan- 
sing. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I'll  go  over  to  Wests'  to-mor- 
row," he  said.  "  They  pressed  me  to  spend  some 
time  with  them,  and  there  are  arrangements  to  be 
made  on  which  they  want  my  opinion.  Edgar  is 
taking  up  land  in  Canada." 

Mrs.  Lansing  looked  troubled. 

"  Was  there  anything  disturbing  in  the  paper  Her- 
bert gave  me  for  you?  He  doesn't  tell  me  much  about 
his  business,  but  I  gathered  that  he  was  vexed  about 


382  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

some  shares  he  bought  on  your  account.  I  should  be 
sorry  if  they  have  gone  down." 

"  You  would  hardly  understand ;  the  thing's  a  little 
complicated,"  George  said  with  reassuring  gentleness. 
"  I'm  afraid  I  have  lost  some  money;  but,  after  all,  it 
isn't  my  worst  misfortune.  I'll  have  a  talk  with  Her- 
bert as  soon  as  he  comes  home." 

He  left  Brantholme  the  next  morning  and  was  re- 
ceived by  Ethel  when  he  arrived  at  Wests'. 

"  We  have  been  expecting  you,"  she  said  cordially. 

"  Then  you  know  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I'm  very  sorry ;  but  I  suppose  it  will  hardly 
bear  talking  about.  Stephen  is  waiting  for  you;  he's 
taking  a  day  off  and  Edgar's  friend,  Singleton,  ar- 
rives to-night." 

Singleton  duly  made  his  appearance,  but  he  was  not 
present  when  George  and  Stephen  West  sat  down  for 
a  talk  after  dinner  in  the  latter's  smoking-room. 
Presently  George  took  out  the  statement  and  handed 
it  to  his  host. 

"  I  want  advice  badly  and  I  can't  go  to  an  outsider 
for  it,"  he  said.  "  I  feel  quite  safe  in  confiding  in 
you." 

West  studied  the  document  for  a  while  before  he 
looked  up. 

"  The  main  point  to  be  decided  is  —  whether  you 
should  sell  these  shares  at  once  for  what  they  will 
bring,  or  wait  a  little?  With  your  permission,  we'll 
ask  Singleton ;  he  knows  more  about  the  matter  than 
anybody  else." 

Singleton  came  in  and  lighted  a  cigar,  and  then 
listened  carefully,  with  a  curious  little  smile,  while 
West  supplied  a  few  explanations. 


GEORGE  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND     383 

"  Hold  on  to  these  shares,  even  if  you  have  to  make 
a  sacrifice  to  do  so,"  he  advised. 

"  But  they  seem  to  be  almost  worthless,"  George 
objected. 

"  Perhaps  I  had  better  go  into  the  matter  fully,"  said 
Singleton.  "  I'll  do  so  on  the  understanding  that  what 
I'm  about  to  tell  you  reaches  nobody  else." 

George  looked  at  West,  who  nodded. 

"  Well,"  explained  Singleton,  "  I've  come  over  on  a 
flying  visit  about  this  rubber  business.  The  original 
company  —  the  one  in  which  you  hold  shares  —  was 
got  up  mainly  with  the  idea  of  profiting  by  the  rather 
reckless  general  buying  of  such  stock.  Its  tropical 
possessions  were  badly  managed,  though  a  little  good 
rubber  was  shipped,  and  when  prices  reached  their 
highest  point  Mr.  Lansing  sold  out." 

"  If  he  had  sold  my  shares  at  the  same  time,  there 
should  have  been  a  satisfactory  margin?" 

"  Undoubtedly.  Extensive  selling,  however,  shakes 
the  confidence  of  speculators,  and  a  man  desirous  of 
unloading  would  accordingly  prefer  everybody  else  to 
hold  on." 

"  I  think  I  am  beginning  to  understand  now," 
George  said  grimly. 

"  Then,"  Singleton  went  on,  "  a  new  company  was 
projected  by  the  promoters  of  the  first  one,  and  I  was 
sent  out  to  report  on  its  prospects.  At  the  last  mo- 
ment Mr.  Lansing  withdrew,  but  his  associates  sent 
me  south  again.  The  slump  he  had  foreseen  came; 
nobody  wanted  rubber  shares  in  any  but  firmly  es- 
tablished and  prosperous  companies.  Lansing  had 
cleared  out  in  time  and  left  his  colleagues  to  face  a 
crushing  loss." 


384  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  don't  see  how  all  this  bears  upon  the  subject," 
George  interrupted. 

"  Wait.  You  may  be  thankful  Lansing  didn't  sell 
your  shares.  I  found  that  the  company  could  be 
placed  upon  a  paying  basis,  and,  what  is  more,  that 
the  older  one  possessed  resources  its  promoters  had 
never  suspected.  In  fact,  I  discovered  how  its  out- 
put could  be  greatly  increased  at  an  insignificant  cost. 
I  came  home  at  once  with  a  scheme  which  has  been 
adopted,  and  I've  every  reason  to  believe  that  there 
will  be  marked  rise  in  the  shares  before  long.  Any- 
way, there's  no  doubt  that  the  company  will  be  able 
to  place  high-class  rubber  on  the  market  at  a  cost 
which  will  leave  a  very  satisfactory  margin." 

George  was  conscious  of  strong  relief.  It  looked 
as  if  his  loss  would  be  small,  and  there  was  a  chance 
of  his  stock  becoming  valuable;  but  another  thought 
struck  him. 

"  When  was  it  that  Herbert  sold  his  shares  ?  " 

"  At  the  beginning  of  last  winter." 

"  Shortly  before  we  mentioned  that  you  might  come 
home,"  West  interposed  pointedly. 

This  confirmed  George's  suspicions;  he  could  read- 
ily understand  Herbert's  preferring  that  he  should 
stay  away,  but  he  remembered  that  it  was  Sylvia's  let- 
ter which  had  decided  him  to  remain  in  Canada.  In 
the  statement  left  him,  he  had  been  charged  with  hall 
of  certain  loans  Herbert  had  made  to  her,  and  he  won- 
dered whether  this  pointed  to  some  collusion  between 
them.  He  thought  it  by  no  means  improbable. 

"  I  understand  that  Herbert  knows  nothing  about 
these  new  developments,  and  has  no  idea  that  the  fu- 
ture of  the  two  undertakings  is  promising?  "  he  said. 


GEORGE  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND     385 

Singleton  laughed. 

"  Not  the  slightest  notion.  If  he  suspected  it,  there 
would  be  nothing  to  prevent  his  buying  shares;  noth- 
ing will  transpire  until  the  shareholders'  meeting, 
which  will  not  be  held  for  some  time.  Lansing  re- 
tired and  sold  out,  because  he  was  convinced  that  both 
companies  were  worthless."  He  paused  and  added 
dryly :  "  I  can't  see  why  we  should  enlighten  him." 

"  Nor  can  I,"  responded  George ;  and  West  nodded. 

"  Then,"  said  Singleton,  "  when  Lansing  learns  the 
truth,  it  will  be  too  late  for  him  to  profit  by  the  knowl- 
edge. I  believe  he  has  thrown  away  the  best  chance 
he  ever  had." 

Shortly  afterward  Edgar  came  in  and  they  talked 
of  something  else;  but  two  days  later  Herbert  returned 
and  George  went  over  to  Brantholme.  He  was  shown 
into  the  library  where  Herbert  was  sitting,  and  the  lat- 
ter was  on  his  guard  when  he  saw  his  cousin's  face. 
He  greeted  him  affably,  however,  and  made  a  few  in- 
quiries about  his  farming. 

George  stood  looking  at  him  with  a  fixed  expres- 
sion. 

"I  think,"  he  said  shortly,  "we  had  better  talk 
business." 

"  Oh,  well,"  replied  Herbert.  "  I  suppose  you  have 
studied  my  statement.  I  needn't  say  that  I  regret  the 
way  matters  have  turned  out;  but  one  can't  foresee 
every  turn  of  the  market,  or  avoid  a  miscalculation 
now  and  then.  It  would  hurt  me  if  I  thought  this 
thing  had  anything  to  do  with  your  going  to  Ste- 
phen's." 

"  We  won't  discuss  that.  I  gave  you  authority  to 
look  after  my  affairs;  I  want  it  back." 


386  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

Herbert  took  a  document  from  a  drawer  and  laid  it 
on  the  table. 

"  Here  it  is.  But  won't  you  let  me  try  to  straighten 
matters  out  ?  " 

"  Can  they  be  straightened  out?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Herbert  with  some  embarrassment, 
"  I'm  afraid  there's  a  serious  loss,  but  it  would  be 
wiser  to  face  it  and  sell  off  the  shares." 

"  I  can  do  what  seems  most  desirable  without  any 
further  assistance." 

George  leaned  forward  and,  as  he  picked  up  the 
document,  a  flush  crept  into  his  cousin's  face. 

"  I  hardly  expected  you  would  take  this  line.  Do 
you  think  it's  right  to  blame  me  because  I  couldn't  an- 
ticipate the  fall  in  value?" 

"  It  strikes  me  that  the  situation  is  one  that  had 
better  not  be  discussed  between  us,"  George  rejoined, 
with  marked  coldness.  "  Besides,  my  opinion  won't 
count  for  much  in  face  of  the  very  satisfactory  finan- 
cial results  you  have  secured.  I'm  sorry  for  what  has 
happened,  on  Muriel's  account." 

He  turned  and  went  out ;  and  met  Ethel  on  reaching 
West's  house. 

"  I  must  try  to  arrange  for  an  interview  with  Syl- 
via and  Captain  Bland,"  he  told  her.  "  There  are 
matters  that  should  be  explained  to  them." 

"Won't  it  be  painful?" 

"  That  can't  be  allowed  to  count." 

"  After  all,"  said  Ethel  thoughtfully,  "  it's  no  doubt 
the  proper  course." 

A  week  later  he  visited  Mrs.  Kettering's,  and  was 
shown  into  a  room  where  Sylvia  awaited  him  alone. 
After  the  first  glance  at  him,  she  turned  her  eyes  away. 


GEORGE  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND     387 

"  George,"  she  said,  "  I'm  afraid  I've  behaved 
badly.  Can  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  he  answered  with  a  forced  smile. 
"  Anyway,  I'll  try,  and  I'd  like  you  to  be  happy.  But 
it  wouldn't  be  flattering  if  I  pretended  that  I  wasn't 
hurt." 

"  Ah,"  she  exclaimed,  "  you  were  always  so  gener- 
ous!" 

He  stood  silent  a  moment  or  two  looking  at  her. 
She  had  cunningly  tricked  him  and  killed  his  love ;  but 
she  was  very  attractive  with  her  pretty,  helpless  air. 
He  knew  this  was  false,  but  there  was  no  profit  in  bit- 
terness ;  he  would  not  cause  her  pain. 

"  It's  more  to  the  purpose  that  I'm  hard,  which  is 
fortunate  in  several  ways.  But  I  came  to  talk  about 
the  farm ;  that  is  why  I  suggested  that  Captain  Bland 
should  be  present." 

"  The  farm  ?  "  Sylvia  regarded  him  with  a  trace 
of  mockery.  "  That  you  should  think  of  it  is  so 
characteristic  of  you!  " 

George  smiled. 

"  I  can't  help  my  matter-of-fact  nature,  and  I've 
found  it  serviceable.  Anyway,  the  farm  must  be 
thought  of."  He  laid  a  hand  gently  on  her  shoulder. 
"Sylvia,  I'm  told  that  Bland  isn't  rich.  If  he  loves 
you,  take  him  fully  into  your  confidence." 

She  blushed,  which  he  had  scarcely  expected. 

"  I  have  done  so  —  at  least,  I  allowed  Herbert  to 
explain  —  there  is  nothing  hidden."  Then  her  tone 
changed  to  one  of  light  raillery.  "  You  were  always 
an  extremist,  George;  you  can't  hit  the  happy  medium. 
Once  you  believed  I  was  everything  that  was  most 
admirable,  and  now  — " 


388  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  I  think  you  have  done  right  and  wisely  in  letting 
Bland  know  how  things  stand.  It  was  only  my  inter- 
est in  your  future  that  warranted  wrhat  I  said." 

"  Well,"  she  replied,  "  we  will  go  up  and  talk  to 
him;  he's  waiting.  You  can  give  your  account  to 
him." 

George  followed  her,  but  for  a  while  he  was  con- 
scious of  a  certain  restraint,  which  he  fancied  was 
shared  by  Bland.  It  was  difficult  to  talk  about  indif- 
ferent subjects,  and  he  took  out  some  papers. 

"  I  came  to  explain  the  state  of  Sylvia's  Canadian 
affairs;  she  wished  you  to  know,"  he  said.  "  If  you 
will  give  me  a  few  minutes,  I'll  try  to  make  things 
clear." 

Bland  listened  gravely,  and  then  made  a  sign  of  sat- 
isfaction. 

"  It's  obvious  that  Sylvia  placed  her  property  in 
most  capable  hands.  We  can  only  give  you  our  sin- 
cere thanks." 

"  There's  a  point  to  be  considered,"  George  re- 
sumed. "  Have  you  decided  what  to  do  with  the 
property  ?  " 

"  Sylvia  and  I  have  talked  it  over;  we  thought  of 
selling.  I  don't  see  how  we  could  carry  on  the  farm." 

"If  you  will  let  the  matter  stand  over  for  a  few 
weeks,  I  might  be  a  purchaser.  The  land's  poor,  but 
there's  a  good  deal  of  it,  and  I  believe  that,  with  proper 
treatment,  it  could  be  made  to  pay." 

Sylvia  looked  astonished,  Bland  slightly  embar- 
rassed. 

"  We  never  contemplated  your  buying  the  place," 
he  said. 

"  I've  grown  fond  of  it;  I  believe  I  understand  how 


GEORGE  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND    389 

it  should  be  worked.  There's  no  reason  why  either  of 
you  should  object  to  my  becoming  a  purchaser." 

"  I  suppose  that's  true,"  Bland  agreed.  "  Anyway, 
I  can  promise  that  we'll  do  nothing  about  the  matter 
until  we  hear  from  you ;  I  don't  think  there's  any  like- 
lihood of  our  disputing  about  the  price.  You  can  fix 
that  at  what  it's  worth  to  you." 

George  changed  the  subject ;  and  when  he  went  out, 
Sylvia  smiled  at  Bland. 

'  You  needn't  have  been  so  sensitive  about  his  buy- 
ing the  farm,"  she  said.  "  It  will  have  to  be  sold." 

"  I  suppose  so,  but  I  wish  we  could  have  given  it  to 
him." 

Sylvia  touched  his  cheek  caressingly. 

"  Don't  be  foolish ;  it's  out  of  the  question.  You 
will  have  to  be  economical  enough  as  it  is,  but  you 
shan't  make  any  sacrifice  that  isn't  strictly  necessary." 

During  the  next  few  weeks  George  made  some  vis- 
its among  his  friends,  but  he  returned  to  the  Wests 
shortly  before  Edgar  sailed  for  Canada.  On  the  night 
preceding  his  departure  they  were  sitting  together 
when  Edgar  looked  at  him  thoughtfully. 

"  George,"  he  remarked,  "  I  wonder  if  it  has  ever 
struck  you  that  you're  a  very  short-sighted  person? 
I  mean  that  you  don't  realize  where  your  interest 
lies." 

"  It's  possible,"  said  George.  "  What  particular 
oversight  are  you  referring  to?  " 

"  It  isn't  easy  to  answer  bluntly,  and  if  I  threw  out 
any  delicate  suggestions,  they'd  probably  be  wasted. 
You  saw  a  good  deal  of  Flora  Grant,  and  if  you  had 
any  sense  you  would  have  recognized  what  kind  of 
girl  she  is." 


390  RANCHING  FOR  SYLVIA 

"  Miss  Grant  doesn't  need  your  praise." 

"  I'm  glad  you  admit  it ;  appreciation's  sometimes 
mutual.  Now  I  can't  undertake  to  say  what  Flora 
implied  from  your  visits,  but  I've  no  doubt  about  what 
her  father  expected." 

The  blood  crept  into  George's  face  as  he  remem- 
bered Grant's  manner  during  their  last  interview. 

"  I  did  nothing  that  could  have  led  him  to  be- 
lieve — " 

"  Oh,  no !  "  said  Edgar.  "  You  behaved  with  the 
greatest  prudence;  perhaps  frigid  insensibility  would 
describe  it  better.  Of  course  this  is  a  deplorable  in- 
trusion, but  I  feel  I  must  point  out  that  it  may  not  be 
too  late  yet." 

"  I've  felt  greatly  tempted  to  buy  Sylvia's  farm," 
George  said  thoughtfully. 

"  That's  good  news.  If  you're  wise,  you'll  consider 
what  I've  said." 

George  did  so  after  Edgar's  departure,  though  the 
idea  was  not  new  to  him.  He  had  long  been  sensible 
of  Flora's  charm,  and  had  now  and  then  felt  in  Can- 
ada that  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  love  her.  Since 
he  had  learned  the  truth  about  Sylvia,  Flora  had  oc- 
cupied a  prominent  place  in  his  mind.  By  degrees  a 
desire  for  her  had  grown  stronger;  he  had  seen  how 
admirable  in  many  ways  she  was,  how  staunch  and 
fearless  and  upright.  Still,  he  feared  to  go  back ;  she 
was  proud  and  might  scorn  his  tardy  affection.  He 
grew  disturbed  and  occasionally  moody,  and  then  one 
day  a  cablegram  was  delivered  to  him. 

"  Believe  you  had  better  come  back,"  it  read,  and 
was  signed  by  Helen  Taunton. 

George  understood  what  it  was  intended  to  convey, 


GEORGE  MAKES  UP  HIS  MIND    391 

and  before  night  he  had  arranged  to  purchase  Sylvia's 
farm. 

Three  days  later  he  was  crossing  the  Atlantic  with 
an  eager  and  thankful  heart. 


THE  END 


. 


